A Land Without Magic
by Model Builder
Summary: Two years after the abrupt defeat of You-Know-Who in the UK, the American Wizarding Community's sense of complacency was shattered by an event known as the 10/22/83 Maine Incursion. Who are the Invaders from the Enchanted Realms and what do they want? And will a ten-year-old muggle boy who claims to have been inside the Incursion be able to answer these and other questions?
1. 10-22-1983

**A Land Without Magic**

**A "Once Upon A Time" / "Harry Potter" **

**Crossover Fanfiction**

**Disclaimer:** "Once Upon A Time" is owned and created by the team of Edward Kitsis and Adam Horowitz. "Harry Potter" is owned by J. K. Rowling. Extended references are made to characters from "Bewitched," "The Addams Family," "Johnny Quest," the works of H. P. Lovecraft, and others too numerous to list here. I do not own any of the characters depicted in this story. This Fan Fiction Crossover is the work of a hobbyist having fun with some of his favorite, fictional characters, and nothing more. I hope that this is a sufficient disclaimer.

**Historian's Note:** This story is set in October / November 1983. Storybrooke has just appeared in our world. It is roughly two years after the first defeat of Lord Voldemort.

Though I lived through 1983, I cannot make any absolute guarantees that the 1983 depicted in this story is historically accurate. Though I have researched this time period carefully for my story whenever I was in doubt, I take full responsibility for any anachronisms that I may have inadvertently allowed to slip in due to my imprecise memory of the period. As L. P. Hartley, CBE, so aptly put it, "The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there."

As an episode of "Once Upon A Time," the Title Card would depict a line of classic cars driving across the screen with Storybrooke in the background in the Blue Forest setting.

**Chapter One: 10-22-1983**

Special Agent Juliet Lockhart of the United States Federal Bureau of Sorcery sat at the kitchen table in a nondescript house that was located in an equally nondescript Boston suburb eating her dinner. At least, the house _appeared_ to be nondescript to anyone on the outside, be they wizard or muggle. But on the _inside_, the small house was set up to serve as a Magical Anomaly Detection Station operated by the FBS. The house in Boston, along with hundreds of other similar stations scattered throughout the United States of America, was part of the MADS Network used by the FBS to monitor for magical incursions from the Enchanted Realms and assist in determining what (if any) threat they posed to the Wizarding World in general and the American Wizarding Community in particular.

As Agent Lockhart ate, the new trainee, Tabitha Stephens, monitored several wall-sized parchment maps of the Eastern Seaboard of the United States. These maps had been enchanted to show the location and type of any magical anomaly that may require the attention of FBS Aurors. Then, when her break was over, Agent Lockhart would monitor the maps on her own while Trainee Stephens ate. Other than the two of them and the two agents assigned to the Day Shift who would come to relieve them early tomorrow morning, there was nobody else assigned to crew this station.

But this was not always the case. Only a few short years ago, there were anywhere from ten to twelve FBS Agents at this station at any given time.

Agent Lockhart reflected that back in the Day, the station had had _three_ partially overlapping shifts, each consisting of three to four Agents or Aurors, with _everyone_ living on-site throughout their assignment (Agent Lockhart had done two six-month station assignment in her time; one in 1973, and another in 1980.) The tight quarters were bad enough. But to make things even more difficult, only "passive" magic could be used at the station to avoid the possibility of revealing their location to any potential threat that popped-in from the Enchanted Realms.

Because of this, the kitchen and laundry area were in constant use. At least one person was always away on a supply run to the local stores, with several others performing various household tasks such as cleaning, vehicle maintenance and keeping the lawn cut and the driveway free of snow – all without using "active magic." And due to limited sleeping quarters, a "hot-bed" system was adopted to accommodate everyone on site.

All in all, the FBS MADS Network consumed vast amounts of galleons, dollars, and person-hours. But there was a very good reason at the time for doing this:

In the early 1970's, a Wizarding Civil War had broken out in the United Kingdom and Europe over the issue of "Blood Purity," and who should be allowed to receive formal magical training and be officially recognized as a "true" wizard or witch. The cause for much of this was a fanatical supremacist group calling itself the "Death Eaters," whose leader, the grandiosely self-proclaimed "Lord Voldemort" (but who was so _feared_ by those he decided to target that he was normally referred to indirectly as "You-Know-Who,") was making life difficult for wizards and witches who could not "prove their magical lineage" to the supremacists' satisfaction.

Though the issue of Blood Purity had never been important to the American Wizarding Community, there was still a _very _palpable fear of what might happen if the fanatics in the UK and Europe triumphed. It was widely believed that these Death Eaters' next move in their zeal to "cleanse Wizardkind of mongrels" would be to attack the American Wizarding Community because it claimed a higher percentage of half-bloods and muggle-borns (as well as blended wizard/muggle families) than _any_ other community in the Wizarding World.

Of course, not _all_ American wizards and witches were worried, much less afraid. Agent Lockhart's trainee, Tabitha Stephens, though a half-blood herself, was from a _very_ famous family of powerful and respected pure blooded wizards and witches. Mention "You-Know-Who" to Tabitha's formidable grandmother and she would show nothing but contempt for "Little Tommy Riddle" by loudly saying his supposedly tabooed name, daring the Dark Lord to accept her challenge.

Even the wizard currently holding the title of Sorcerer Supreme, Dr. Stephen Strange (himself a muggle-born!) dismissed "Voldie" as a "two-bit thug," and a "punk" not worth his trouble. And given the beat-down Dr. Strange recently gave to the _truly_ dangerous Baron Mordo, everyone (You-Know-Who included,) knew that this was no idle boast.

But Special Agent Lockhart was a half-blood witch who had as many muggle members of her immediate family as she had wizards and witches, and was _not _so complacent. Neither was Trainee Stephens, who (unlike her notorious grandmother,) worried about her muggle father and her muggle grandparents as well as her 13 year old brother, Adam. Even though Adam _was_ a wizard, Tabitha had _absolutely_ no illusions of how her kid brother would fare if he found himself alone, facing a gang of _adult_ pure-blood fanatics, who wanted to "send a message" to those that they considered to be "Blood Traitors."

Fortunately for those who _were_ concerned about the situation, the FBS _had _taken developments in the UK seriously, and expanded the mission of the MADS Network at the start of the Wizarding War in the 1970's to serve as a "Distant Early Warnings" Network against potential Death-Eater incursions, as well as sundry incursions from the Enchanted Realms.

Thanks to the influence of half-bloods and muggle-borns, the layout of the stations was based heavily on the Command Center of a muggle NORAD station, complete with large parchment wall maps of the stations' assigned monitoring area enchanted to passively receive and display "data" in the manner of a muggle radar scanner. And since "active magic" could not be used except in dire emergencies, an elaborate telephone and back-up, short-waive radio system was used to keep in contact with FBS Headquarters in Salem, Massachusetts, as well as with all other MADS Network stations. Even the network's secondary mission identifier, "Distant Early Warnings," was "borrowed" from muggle terminology.

In fact, muggle-derived terminology was used _extensively_ to communicate between stations. This was partly because it just seemed "appropriate under the circumstances." But its use also had a practical aspect: The FBS believed that pureblood supremacists (who preferred to "party like it was 1499,") would be unlikely to monitor telephone and radio communications, much less manage to make any sense of the muggle jargon used even if they DID manage to overhear any FBS MADS Network communications . . . .

Special Agent Lockhart was roused from her ruminations when the intercom beeped at the kitchen table and Tabitha said, "Ma'am, sorry to interrupt your break, but we've got a contact in the vicinity of the Massachusetts / Maine border area. It seems to be a variant of vanishing cabinet lore . . . Ma'am, we just got a _second _contact; same location, but weaker than the first!"

Special Agent Lockhart said, "I'm on my way." She threw the remains of her meal in the waste basket, and headed straight for the map room.


	2. Salem, we have a problem

**Chapter Two: "Salem, we have a problem . . . ."**

Agent Lockhart came to Trainee Stephens' side just in time to see a _third_ contact appear on the enchanted parchment map. "Definitely Vanishing Cabinet lore, Stephens," said Agent Lockhart. "But one that uses a _single_ terminal instead of the normal two. I've only read about this kind of magic in books . . . ."

"Someone likes to live dangerously, Ma'am," said Tabitha. "I saw a two-terminal Vanishing Cabinet demonstrated when I was at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagle said that they were developed in the 16th Century because the single-terminal kind was not safe."

Agent Lockhart raised an eyebrow and made a very unladylike snort. "You had to go to a _Prep School_ to learn _that_, Stephens?"

Juliet Lockhart had been home-schooled in magic, unlike her young trainee who had graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry a few months earlier. She kidded Tabitha about their different educational backgrounds, but she was also aware that if she had been Tabitha's age _now_, she would never have been allowed to join the FBS without formal magical education, which was _not_ required when she first joined in the late 1940's.

Agent Lockhart said, "Your Professors say anything else about single-terminal vanishing cabinets, Trainee Stephens?"

Tabitha nodded. "Professor McGonagle also said that a single-terminal vanishing cabinet had to "make its own portal at the other end." This could be dangerous because the user would only have a general idea of where they would end up. Not to mention that the _formation_ of the "other end" would be _very_ easy for other wizards and witches to detect; just like we did, now."

"Very good, Stephens," said Agent Lockhart with an approving nod. She studied the information appearing on the parchment at her desk. "Three contacts in all. The first one brought over something from the Enchanted Realms in the forty to sixty pound range. The second contact looks like a failed _return_ attempt. And the one just now brought over something in the eight to twelve pound range."

Agent Lockhart shook her head. During her time with the FBS, she had seen dozens of incursions from the Enchanted Realms, but there was something about this one that didn't seem, well, normal. (Or, rather, what passed for "normal" in her line of work.) Even for a single-terminal vanishing cabinet, there was way more magic used than should have been.

"What do _you_ think came through, Ma'am?"

"I have no idea, Preppie," said Agent Lockhart dryly, though softening her jape with a wan smile. "I'll get on the phone and give Salem our report. They'll send out a team of Aurors to investigate and then I'll keep watch while you have your dinner . . . ."

Agent Lockhart picked up the receiver from the desk phone; an older, rotary dial model, and started to dial FBS Headquarters in Salem, Massachusetts. "But I'll bet ten galleons that they _already_ know about it in Salem, considering the amount of magic used in these incursions. I'll just . . . ."

Agent Lockhart dropped the receiver as she and Tabitha watched a black dot appear on the map showing the coast of Maine. The dot rapidly expanded outward until the entire map went completely black, and then the parchment "flickered" (for lack of a better term,) and became as blank as though it were a spotless, fresh sheet. The witches looked around them. _Every _parchment in the room that had been enchanted to detect anomalous magic and provide information about it had gone black before turning into a blank sheet as well.

Agent Lockhart put the phone to her ear and heard the rapid beeping of an off-the-hook phone. She then pressed the button on the cradle, let it up, and was relieved to hear a dial tone. She set the phone back on the cradle, nodded to Tabitha, and said, "Go into the living room. Turn on the television and the radio. Check all channels and see if the _muggles_ noticed anything . . . unusual. I'll call Salem. It looks like we just had a _fourth_ incursion. And whatever it was, it was powerful enough to completely blow out our ability to detect anomalous magic."

Tabitha did as she was told and came back a few moments later. "Ma'am, all muggle channels are broadcasting normally on the TV and the radio, but there is _nothing_ on the Wizarding Wireless Network station in Collinsport, Maine . . . ."

Agent Lockhart barely heard her trainee's report. Instead, her attention was focused on a faint image attempting to form in the center of the blank parchments on the walls.

Tabitha noticed it as well. "Ma'am, I think the maps are trying to restore themselves."

"Not just the _maps_," said Agent Lockhart as she handed Tabitha a couple of parchment sheets from the desk in front of her. "Look. _Every _piece of enchanted parchment in the room looks like it is doing the same thing - forming the same image. But I don't think the map is restoring itself . . . ."

A few moments later, Agent Lockhart was proven right as the black shapes congealed into a single line that then began to form individual words. When the words solidified, the two witches read them, and noticed that the same fourteen words had appeared on the center of every parchment in the room:

"_**Somewhere horrible! Absolutely horrible! A place where the only happy ending... will be mine!"**_

Agent Lockhart dialed the number for FBS HQ, and said in a tight voice, "Salem, we have a problem. We have just detected what has to be the largest incursion from the Enchanted Realms in recorded history." She then gave her report, listened to the brief reply and said, "Understood, sir. We'll begin making calls right away," then hung up the phone.

"They detected the Incursion in Salem, alright, Tabitha," said Agent Lockhart, who suddenly looked ten years older. "_And _in New Orleans. _And_ clear around the world. The FBS is on the line with other Bureaus and Ministries of Magic and even with the White Council. They are currently trying to reach the Sorcerer Supreme even as we speak.

"They also said that other MADS Network stations' enchanted maps within 50 miles of the Incursion are displaying the same message. And Salem confirms that the WWN station in Collinsport has been knocked out by whatever it was that came through from the Enchanted Realms. Kind of like what an electromagnetic pulse from an atomic bomb would do to muggle radio and television . . . .

"But so far, the _Muggle_ world has not detected _anything_. Our supervisor stated that both the Muggle National Security Agency and S.H.I.E.L.D. have been notified and are currently looking into it, but so far, their satellites have not detected _anything_ anomalous on the Eastern Seaboard." Agent Lockhart went over to a file cabinet and removed a thin folder.

"There's more. The FBS has issued an Emergency Evacuation Order for _all_ wizards and witches living within two hundred miles of the Incursion's epicenter. We need to call the names on these lists and ask them to call the names on their lists. Telephones, C. B.'s and Short Waive Radios only! Absolutely no mirrors or other magical means of communication! Tell them that they need to leave Maine as quickly as possible, but they are NOT to apparate, use brooms or carpets or floo hearths. No magic of _any_ kind until they are at least 100 miles from the Incursion's epicenter."

Tabitha said, "Ma'am, the people that I'm calling will want to know _why_ they can't use any magic to leave Maine! What should I tell them?" Tabitha imagined the extra burden a prohibition on magic use would make for the families ordered to evacuate Maine at such short notice. They would have to grab their belongings by hand, and if their cars were low on gas, they would not be able to transfigure water into gasoline for the trip.

"Tell them that whatever it was that came through from the Enchanted Realms set-off _every_ alarm in the Wizarding World but did not cause even a _blip_ in the Muggle World," said Agent Lockhart. "The Bureau thinks that this may mean that _who_ever or _what_ever is responsible for the Incursion _knew _that they had to hide from muggles, but maybe they did not think that they had to hide from _wizards_ as well. This could mean that the Invaders think that there is no magic in our world. If this is so, then the Bureau wants them to go on thinking this.

"We don't want to take the chance that they may detect any native magic users! If this is a hostile invasion, we – wizards and witches – could be our world's only ace-in-the-hole! Now get dialing, Preppie . . . !"


	3. A Land Without Magic

**Chapter Three: A Land Without Magic**

"Jenny? Jenny, darling? Jenny, you need to wake up _now_!"

"M-mom . . . ? What is it, mom? What's wrong?" Ten year old Jenny Jordan had been asleep for less than an hour when her mother had come into her room and woke her up. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, Jenny saw that her little brother, Ricky, was at their mom's side, groggy and still in his pajamas.

"Honey, listen to me very carefully," said her mother. "Whatever you do, you need to stay calm . . . ."

"What's wrong, mom?" said Jenny, now fully awake and wide-eyed with worry. "What's happening?!"

"Jenny, listen to me." Jenny's mom put her hands gently on her daughter's shoulders. "Whatever you do, you have to stay calm. Your dad says that you're at that age when you could do spontaneous, reflexive magic if you are scared. You have to keep yourself under control. This is very important. _No magic_ may be used until we are _safely_ away from here."

"_Safely_ away? From our home? _Why_, mom . . . ?"

"We'll talk more when we're on the road. We have to leave our home as quickly as possible. And your dad can't do _any _magic until we are out of Collinsport. Out of Maine. Not until we are at least 100 miles from where we are now. Now you need to throw some clothes into your school backpack as quickly as you can and get to the car. I'll get Ricky packed up, but we've got to be on the road within the next twenty minutes.

"Mom, what's _happening_?"

"Jenny, _please_, we need to go! We can talk more when we are on the road. Your father is on the phone right now; he has to make some calls before we leave. Please get packed and when you are done, please get Ricky into his car seat!"

"B-but what about my Birthday Party this weekend?" said Jenny. "All my friends are supposed to come over."

"Honey, where we are going, a lot of your friends will be there, too. We'll do everything possible to give you a Birthday Party. _But for now we've got to get moving . . . ._"

Less than fifteen minutes later, the Jordans were backing out of their driveway in mom's '53 Studebaker Starlight Coup. Their dad's Avanti would be left behind. The Jordans were a "Studebaker Family," and Jenny knew that her dad treasured his '65 Avanti. For American wizards and witches, old cars were even more of a "status symbol" than they were for their muggle neighbors. For dad to abandon it, even briefly, spoke volumes about the situation all by itself.

Because older cars were less susceptible to stray magic, wizarding families in America favored them over the newer cars that were becoming more and more computerized. They were easy to repair to the point that even some magic could be used without fear of damaging the electronics. And the poor gas mileage of these older cars was not a problem for a driver who could waive a wand or twitch a nose and turn a gallon of water into a gallon of gas.

And unlike the newer cars, that were looking more and more alike, the older cars had real character. All things considered, it was no wonder that American wizards and witches developed a "car culture" of their own that made their European brothers and sisters scratch their heads in confusion at this obsession with such a quintessentially muggle artifact.

Based on this fact alone, the Jordans could see that other wizarding families were on the road as well. An impromptu parade of classic cars was forming, heading out of Collinsport. The Brockens in their '49 Mercury Woody. The Russos in their '59 Buick. Jenny's dad, who was driving, gave the Minorus the "thumbs-up" as they passed in their '56 Cadillac, and Jenny caught a quick glimpse of Karen Minoru as they passed, still in her pajamas. The girls waved at each other for as long as the Stude was in sight of the Caddie.

Karen was Jenny's best friend, and was supposed to come to her party. "Karen and me were supposed to have a _sleepover_ after my party . . . ." said Jenny wistfully.

"Well, that much we are able to promise you, sweetheart," said Jenny's father. "We've got a four hour drive ahead of us once we get on I-95 to Massachusetts. The FBS has set up a "Displaced Wizard's Center" at an old, abandoned motel just outside of Boston. The Minorus are going to be there as well. We all are, at least until we are able to find some place more permanent to stay until the Aurors can sort this thing out."

"What is it, dad?" said Jenny. "What's happening? Is it _Death Eaters_?"

"No, Jenny," said her father. "Something _big_ came through from the Enchanted Realms and the FBS has ordered all wizards and witches to leave Maine, especially Collinsport, as a precaution."

Collinsport, Maine, was also known as "America's Godric's Hollow" among European wizard tourists. Like the Godric's Hollow in the UK, Collinsport had a large population of wizards and witches, living more-or-less openly among their none-the-wiser muggle neighbors. Because of this, Collinsport was a popular place for mixed wizard-muggle families to live. The town had an old history, and was mostly owned by a man named Barnabas Collins who was rumored to be a vampire.

But for ten year old American wizards and witches, Collinsport was the best place in the world to grow up. Unlike her father, (who attended an all-muggle elementary school where he grew up,) Jenny Jordan was one of _fourteen_ kids at Collinsport Elementary School from wizarding families; and two of them were in her fifth grade class, including Karen Minoru.

"What came through, dad?" said Jenny. "Something like a giant or a dragon or an army of orcs?"

"The agent didn't say. She just gave me a list of people to call before we left to relay the message. The agent said that they would tell us more when we got to the Motel."

"What about WWN, daddy? Do you think that they will be saying anything about what is happening?" Jenny pointed to a small, non-factory stock button on the car's radio.

"The person I spoke with said that the WWN was "blown out" by what happened," said Jenny's dad. "And in _any_ case, since the WWN uses magic instead of radio waves, all WWN stations within a five hundred mile radius of the Incursion have been ordered to be silent until we know more about what came through from the Enchanted Realms.

"Uh, Aggie?" said Jenny's dad. That was her mother's name, Agatha, or "Aggie" for short. "Did you, ah, think to bring any money with you?"

Jenny's mom checked her purse, and said, "I've got about five dollars with me, Ren." Her father's name was Lawrence, but everyone called him "Ren." "I had planned to go to the bank in the morning. Let me guess, we need gas?"

Ren nodded. "We're down to one quarter of a tank. I was going to gas up your car tomorrow morning from the garden hose before going in to work, but, well . . . . I think that I may have seven dollars in my wallet. How about you?"

Aggie rummaged through her purse. "Four dollars and seventy-two cents."

Ren nodded. "That should give us at least enough to get more than a hundred miles away from Coastal Maine. We can pull into a rest-stop after that, and I can use my wand from there until we get to the Motel being used as the Displaced Wizard's Center." The Jordans always carried an empty five-gallon can in the trunks of their cars for such emergencies. Moments later, Ren saw a gas station up ahead and signaled to turn in. "No time like the present."

The Jordans pulled up to a pump and Ren gave Aggie the seven dollars from his wallet. "Ask the clerk to give us the full $11.72 on pump five. Jenny, if you have to go to the bathroom, _now_ is the time."

Jenny followed her mother, who was carrying two-year old Ricky. Jenny's little brother had fallen asleep despite (or maybe even because of) all the excitement over the past half-hour into the station's minimart. The cool, night air smelled damp from the brief but violent storm that had passed through the area a little after eight o'clock that evening before Jenny went to bed.

When they got inside, Aggie Jordan handed the money her husband gave her to the clerk behind the counter and then reached into her purse to get out the rest. After taking out the money in her purse, she took out a small, triangular object in birthday giftwrap tied with a ribbon.

"Jenny, this is from your Aunt Maisie," said Aggie. "I was supposed to give it to you at your birthday party this weekend. But I suppose it would be alright to give it to you now."

Jenny took the package and untied the ribbon. When she un-wrapped the paper, she found herself holding a triangular shaped jade stone with a hole through the center. Jenny's eyes brightened. Her grandmother's gift was a rare talisman that allowed the user to see through most enchantments, no matter how skillfully they were crafted.

"Oh, mommy!" said Jenny excitedly. "A _seeing-stone_!"

Aggie shushed her daughter. "This isn't Collinsport, Jenny. _Keep your voice down_."

Jenny nodded. She would have to get used to being more careful; especially since she would probably end up being the _only_ witch in her school wherever her family found a new home. Jenny slipped the stone in her pocket, and then went outside to the car. Her dad was checking under the hood, topping-off the oil, as her mom was putting a very sleepy Ricky in his car seat.

At the next pump, a family of muggles pulled up in a new '84 IROC Camaro fresh out of the showroom; its window sticker still in place. They were a father and a mother and two boys, one about 14 and one about Jenny's age. The boys ran past Jenny to get to the minimart (and probably the Pac Man and Mario Brothers games inside.) There was a little small-talk between Jenny's parents and the other couple, who were mostly commenting on the Jordans' immaculate '53 Stude as her parents in return complimented them on their new Camaro.

To anybody watching, they were two, typical American families who met on the road. Jenny wondered what would happen if the other family found out that her father was a wizard? Would they ask him to fill their tank by transfiguring water into gasoline? And if dad said no, would they burn him at the stake? For that matter, would the gas station owner burn them all at the stake if dad said yes for taking away his business . . . ?"

When Jenny's dad told his daughter that he could do _real_ magic and that one day, she and her little brother would be able to do real magic as well, he took great pains to emphasize that they were, in all other respects, no different from any other family. The Jordans told their daughter that, despite their father's ability to seemingly override the laws of physic as muggles understood them, that he was as human as their muggle mom was.

On a whim, Jenny wondered if her father would look any different through the seeing stone than her muggle mom or the muggle family gassing up their car next to them. Her dad once told her that he would look the same as any muggle if he were given an X-Ray or an MRI. But maybe the seeing stone would show something different . . . .

Jenny held the stone up to her eye and nearly dropped it when she looked through the hole. She looked again without looking through the hole in the stone, and then looked again through the stone, repeating this several times.

It wasn't the way that her parents or the other family looked when viewed through the stone's hole that startled the young witch. It was what was _behind _them in the distance.

Without the stone, Jenny saw thick, old-growth forest.

With the stone, Jenny saw the lights of a city.

When the muggle family went inside to buy some snacks and get their boys, Jenny ran up to her parents and told them what she saw. Then she showed them. Jenny's father gasped as he looked through the hole in the stone. "The Incursion from the Enchanted Realms . . . !"

Lawrence Jordan scrambled for the small camera that they carried with them in their glove compartment in case they needed to document an accident. He aimed the lens through the seeing stone's hole and Jenny saw her father's hands shake as he snapped as many pictures as he could. They would have taken more if they had any money left for an additional roll of film. And when they had taken their last picture, they got back in their car and continued on their way to the Motel where the FBS had set up their Displaced Wizard's Center.

Jenny watched the city through the stone's hole as they drove away, looking over it periodically to see the forest, until the Jordans had driven too far away to see anything more of what would come to be known to the Wizarding World as the "10-22-1983 Maine Incursion."

By 12:00 am, on October 23, 1983, all Wizarding families in the State of Maine had been evacuated. And Maine had become a land without magic . . . .


	4. Threat Assessment

**Chapter Four: Threat Assessment**

Vincent DeMarigny, Director of the United States Federal Bureau of Sorcery, examined the photos as Agent Hadji Quest-Singh, the Bureau's most brilliant Techno-Mage, gave his report.

"These pictures were taken yesterday evening around 10:00 pm in Maine by a family of evacuees through a seeing stone that their ten year old daughter got for a birthday gift," said Agent Quest-Singh. "I tried to enhance them as much as possible, but the film was several years old and had been in the glove compartment of their car all that time. And as you may imagine, the family may be fairly described as nervous when they took the pictures."

"Are you sure that this city is what came through from the Enchanted Realms around a quarter after eight last night?" said Director DeMarigny. "And that it is not a real town that the family saw? It looks like a typical, New England coastal town. This could be the wizard's equivalent of muggles seeing Venus and thinking that it is a flying saucer."

"We are absolutely certain, Director DeMarigny," said Hadji. "The person who took these pictures managed to get some stars in the frame as well as the city. We checked. There is no city there, only forest."

"So, how long until we can get some better pictures, Agent Quest-Singh?"

"First, we need to get some more seeing stones," said Hadji. "The girl who owns the one used for these pictures has donated her stone without even being asked. I plan to construct a frame to hold it steadily in front of a camera lens; a better camera than the one available to her family at the time. I called my brother, John, and he said he would donate his Hasselblad for the cause. He'll be here in the morning. Together, we'll have a frame for the camera built to hold the stone in front of the lens in a few hours.

"But we will need more seeing stones to get all the Intel that we need or it could take weeks for one agent to get pictures from the Incursion's entire circumference."

Director DeMarigny nodded. "Remind me to send that girl a "Good Citizenship" certificate as soon as her family gets a new, permanent address. Or do you think that an "Honorary Junior Auror" badge would be more appropriate?"

"She's ten," said Hadji shrugging. "I'd go with the badge. But keep in mind that the girl and her family were obliviated after they were debriefed. They have no memory of seeing the city through the stone or of taking the pictures. The way they remember it, the girl simply donated her seeing stone to the Bureau when they got to the Displaced Wizard's Center, saying that she hoped it would help."

"That's probably for the best," said Director DeMarigny. "The last thing that we need now is any rumors getting started."

Hadji said, "How about Muggle Agencies? Did they notice anything . . . unusual on the Eastern Seaboard?"

"The NSA says that their satellites don't see anything; just forest where the "city" should be. And just before you came in to give me your report, I was on the phone speaking with my counterpart at S.H.I.E.L.D. Their satellites – even the ones with the super-secret Shi'ar-supplied hardware, for cryin' out loud - couldn't see anything unusual, either."

Director DeMarigny continued to study the pictures and sighed. Of all places in the world, why did this have to happen in Maine? The Carrie White Incident that had happened there less than ten years ago had been bad enough, and resulted in his predecessor's resignation. Now Maine seemed to be taking aim at his career, too.

The place is hexed, it just had to be. The Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position may get all the jokes, but it has nothing on the State of Maine as a hex-magnet.

Director DeMarigny said, "I want detailed maps of the inside of the Incursion by this time next week. I also want an analysis of the kind of spells being used by the Invaders. I want to send a team inside the Incursion on a reconnaissance mission as soon as possible . . . ."

Auror Jennifer Jordan of the United States Federal Bureau of Sorcery signaled for everyone in her seven-person team to stop. She took out her seeing stone, panning the view ahead of her. She then turned and said, "The concealment charms surrounding the Incursion are just ahead. I want the Spellcrackers to be ready to open a hole in it on my signal."

She was leading the first Recon Mission ever to attempt to actually enter the Incursion since it first arrived in Maine way back in October 1983. She turned to the muggle S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent next to her. He hefted a heavy plasma rifle that might come in handy if they ran into any ogres, giants or dragons. The S.H.I.E.L.D. group consisted of two agents. Agent Corey Martindale carrying the plasma rifle was the senior muggle officer present. The other, a young woman named Katie, was armed with a sniper rifle.

Auror Jordan said, "Is S.H.I.E.L.D. ready, Agent Martindale?"

Agent Martindale nodded and said, "S.H.I.E.L.D. is ready at your signal, Auror Jordan!"

"Alright, everyone," said Auror Jordan. "This joint Wizard/Muggle mission into the Incursion is for the safety of _everyone _on Earth; Wizards, Muggles, Mutants - _everyone_! I needn't tell any of you how important this is! Whoever or _whatever_ is behind that wall of enchantment could be _extremely _hostile! Because of this, deadly force, including "_Avada Kedavra_," is authorized. This is _our_ home, and _we_ are going to _protect _it! For _everyone_! Understood? Good!

"Spellcrackers, open this sucker up!" Auror Jordan brought her wand to the ready. It was a 12'' long, Sequoia Redwood with a core of piasa bird feathers. She actually pitied any fool from the Enchanted Realms that got in _her _way!

"We have an entry, Ma'am!" said the chief Spellcracker.

"Move out, team!" said Auror Jordan. "We're going in!"

The group moved through a thick copse of trees and came to a clearing where they found themselves confronted by a well-dressed couple; an imperious-looking woman and a man with long hair who carried a cane.

"We've made contact!" said Auror Jordan, her grip tightening on her wand as S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Martindale brought his plasma rifle to the ready.

"What do you think you are doing here, _Dearie_?" said the man in a cold, accented voice . . . .


	5. Visitors from Abroad

**Chapter Five: Visitors from Abroad**

In the face of adult authority, Jenny Jordan lowered the stick that she was pretending to be a wand and said, "We're just _playing_, sir . . . ." For a moment, the two adults faced the group of seven children at play in an empty ballroom of the outwardly abandoned hotel being used as the Displaced Wizard's Center.

"We're playing "Aurors and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.," sir," said Corey. "We're pretending to be on a recon mission inside the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms that drove us from our homes in Maine." Corey lowered his "plasma rifle" (a cardboard mailing tube that he found out back in the dumpster,) and signaled for the other kids to do the same. The only other muggle, a girl about seven, lowered the yard-stick that she was using as a sniper rifle, and the four other wizarding kids did the same with the sticks and pencils that they were pretending were wands.

Something about the way these two grown-ups stared at him made Corey look to Jenny for help. He may have been the oldest of the group at age 11, but he was a muggle. And from the vibes he was getting from these two Wizarding grown-ups, he thought that it may be best for Jenny to do most of the talking.

"I see . . . ," said the man in a haughty RP English accent. "And who do we have the "pleasure" of addressing?"

"My name is Jenny Jordan and this is Corey Martindale." Jenny then pointed each child out in turn, saying. "That's Katie and Julie Dorsey; they're sisters. And this is Ricky Cobbler; Bradley Scarsdale, and Keith Cassidy."

The man said, "My name is Lucius Malfoy. And this is my wife, Narcissa and our son, Draco."

Jenny just now noticed the boy, who was about her brother's age, peeking shyly from behind his parents. His hair was so blonde that it looked white; a trait that he shared with his father, whose own hair, Jenny noted, was even blonder and longer than the way that the actress Heather Locklear wore her hair on TV. Jenny also noticed the strange way they were dressed. The Malfoys' clothes were old-fashioned to the point of looking like costumes for a stage play.

It took a tremendous effort for Jenny to keep from laughing; as much from nervousness as the way the Malfoys looked. Jenny knew that it was impolite to stare, but she could tell that the Malfoys, especially Mrs. Malfoy, was sizing them up as well.

Mrs. Malfoy looked down on the group of seven children in more ways than one. In her opinion, their clothes looked to be just this side of rags. She noticed that they all wore the ubiquitous blue denim trousers that were popular here in the American Colonies. She also noticed that every child wore a tee-shirt that was decorated with some form of artwork.

The young witch, Jenny Jordan, (who was apparently the _de facto_ leader of these children,) wore a pink tee-shirt with the image of a small, blue person with long blonde hair wearing a white, Phrygian hat. Below this image was the word, "Smurfette." Pinned to her shirt was a cheap looking tin medallion that said, "Honorary Junior Auror." And for some completely unfathomable reason, the girl had a triangular piece of cardboard with a hole cut in its center hanging around her neck by a piece of twine.

The muggle boy (who had had the unmitigated_ gall_ to address her and her husband _directly_!) wore a faded blue shirt that displayed an image of a, well, a _knight_ of some kind, Narcissa supposed. The knight was wearing solid black armour with some kind of muggle electronic device on his cuirass, and brandished a sword that had a narrow blade made of red light. Below the image were the words "Star Wars." Narcissa could care less what _that_ meant.

None of the children wore shoes, Narcissa noticed, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Two of them, a young witch about nine and the eleven year old "Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.," weren't even wearing _socks_! Narcissa even saw a muggle adhesive bandage on the elbow of the seven year old wizard. _Don't these Colonials know how to cast a simple _episkey_ charm?_ thought Narcissa.

Then a word came unbidden into Narcissa's mind: "urchins." These children, five of them the children of wizards and witches, were _street urchins_ who looked like they came straight from the pen of Charles Dickens!

But the presence of the _muggle _children is what bothered Narcissa Malfoy more than anything else. Curiosity got the better of her. "And why are these _muggle _children here at a center for Displaced Wizards and Witches?" Narcissa had directed her query to Jenny. But Corey answered her.

"My _mom's _a witch, Ma'am," said Corey. "My birth mom died when I was almost two. My dad married a witch when I was five and I've called her "mom" ever since. She even adopted me legally. She's a Healer at the Potomac Shore Wizard's Hospital. In Katie's case, her mom married a wizard a few years after she got divorced. Now she and Julie are sisters . . . ."

Narcissa's stare could freeze molten lava. "I was _not_ speaking to _you_, boy!"

"Hey, Lady, his _name_ is Corey!" said Jenny firmly, planting her fists on her hips. "And he and Katie are our _friends_! We _all_ went to the same school in Collinsport _together_ before that stupid Incursion from the Enchanted Realms _forced_ us to leave! And _that's_ why we want to _fight_ whoever they are and drive them _back_ to where they came _from_, isn't _that _right, Corey?"

Corey nodded, his spirits lifted by his friend's support. "Whoever or whatever is hiding behind those concealment charms back home in Maine will find out the hard way that they've invaded the _wrong _part of the multiverse!"

"Oh, is _that_ so?" said Narcissa coldly. "Well, let me tell you something, _little muggle boy_ . . . ."

"Mom!" said Jenny, who was looking past the Malfoys, causing them to turn around to see a woman approaching from behind them. Narcissa noticed that the woman was a muggle, and that she was holding the hand of a wizard who was about Draco's age. The boy, who was carrying a small blue ball, smiled at Draco and waved.

Like the group of children before her, this woman was wearing what Narcissa thought must be the standard uniform of Displaced Wizarding Families that consisted of blue denim trousers and a t-shirt embellished with artwork. Her young wizard son wore blue-denim bib overalls (with one strap held in place by a safety pin,) and nothing else. The boy's face was filthy and his hair uncombed. It was one thing for muggles to look that way, but for wizards and witches . . . .

"Hi, Mrs. Jordan," said Corey. "Are we _ever _glad to see _you_!"

"Hello, Corey," said the woman smiling. She then turned to her daughter and said, "Jenny, we've been looking everywhere for you and your friends. It's almost time for dinner and you'll need to get cleaned-up. And that goes for the rest of you, as well."

Then Jenny's mother let go of the boy's hand and to Narcissa's horror; he toddled straight over to Draco! The little American wizard stopped about three feet from Draco and said, "Hi," and tossed the ball to Draco, who made no effort to catch it. The two boys were quite the study in contrasts; like what might happen if Little Lord Fauntleroy were to meet Huck Finn.

Narcissa snatched Draco up and said, "Will you kindly keep your son under control, Mrs. - and _you_ are . . . ?"

Jenny ran up to her mom and younger brother, and said, "She's my mom. That's my little brother, Ricky. Mom, this is Mr. and Mrs. Malloy."

"That's "Malfoy," young lady," said Narcissa miffed. "My name is Narcissa Malfoy. This is my husband, Lucius, and our son, Draco."

"Well, Narcissa, my name is Agatha Jordan, but everyone calls me "Aggie." I see that you have already met my daughter Jenny and her friends. This is my son, Ricky." The little boy shifted his gaze from his mother, to Draco, to Mrs. Malfoy, occasionally looking over at his sister. He had retrieved his ball and held it up for Draco, still in his mother's arms, in another attempt to get him to play.

"You are a muggle, I see," said Narcissa neutrally.

"Yes, I am, Mrs. Malfoy," said Aggie matter-of-factly. "I'm married to a wizard and we have two children who have magical powers. Is that a _problem_ for you?"

Narcissa shifted uncomfortably. _How dare this _muggle_ speak to me in this manner! Am I not Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black, of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?!_

But Narcissa also knew that she and her husband were on a mission of great importance to the Wizarding World and they all had their parts to play. Even little Draco had his part; for one does not bring _children _with them if they have ulterior or hostile intentions . . . .

Narcissa set Draco down, and he took a tentative step toward the young American wizard. She watched the boys look each other over. A moment later, Ricky Jordan tossed his ball to Draco, who caught it this time before tossing it back. And Narcissa realized that that little blue ball could be a way out of the corner that her deeply offended sensibilities had forced her into.

"No," said Narcissa. "It's . . . it's not a problem at all. Please forgive me, Mrs. Jordan. I must admit that I am a little . . . _apprehensive_ of my son playing with . . . your son's ball is made out of _plastic_, is it not?"

"Yes," said Aggie. "Is that what has you worried?"

"I . . . I have heard that plastic is not safe for children."

"I see . . . ," said Aggie, who doubted that that was all that was bothering Mrs. Malfoy. "And who told you that?"

"We had some dry-cleaning done in Muggle London on one occasion," said Lucius Malfoy. "They covered the cleaned laundry in clear bags made out of . . . plastic. The bags were clearly marked, "Keep out of reach of children."

"Oh, _that_ . . . ," said Aggie with a friendly smile. Aggie explained the reason for the inscription on the bags. "It's not so much the material, Mrs. Malfoy, as it is the way it is used. A plastic _bag _is a suffocation hazard to a child. But a plastic _ball_ is a perfectly safe toy. Your son seems to enjoy it." Aggie smiled as she watched the boys played catch.

"Well, I didn't know," said Narcissa. "Thank you for enlightening me."

"No problem, Mrs. Malfoy," said Aggie. "So, what brings you and your family to our happy little camp?"

"Actually," said Lucius. "We came here to offer financial assistance to help our fellow Wizards and Witches, who were displaced by the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms. If you would be so kind as to introduce us to whoever is in charge of this . . . "happy little camp," did you call it? We would like to make arrangements to address your next group assembly."

"Well, you're talking with one right now," said Aggie. "One of those in charge, I mean. If you would like, you may address everyone tonight after dinner. That's when we get our daily updates from the FBS about the situation in Maine. You can go on after that.

"In fact, why don't the three of you join us for dinner, while you're at it? We've got chili-dogs potato salad and coleslaw tonight. We've even got a soft-serve ice cream machine for dessert."

"Well . . . ," said Narcissa. "How can we turn an offer like _that_ down . . . ?"


	6. Dinner with the Malfoys

**Chapter Six: Dinner with the Malfoys**

The dining room in the old hotel had seemed small when everyone first got there. In the beginning, there had to be _two_ separate breakfast, lunch and dinner schedules to accommodate the number of displaced families from Maine. But within a few days, the Displaced Wizards Center was able to get by comfortably with only one dining schedule as more and more families were relocated to new homes in other parts of the country.

At the very least, Jenny _did_ get to have her birthday party and her "sleepover" with Karen Minoru and a few other friends; the ad hoc Morale Committee (headed by Jenny's mom,) had seen to that. And it was even at the party where FBS Field Agent Wednesday Addams pinned the "Honorary Junior Auror" badge on Jenny for the donation of her seeing stone to the FBS for the duration of the emergency.

But as the days passed, the number of residents at the DWC began to dwindle. To Jenny's disappointment, the Minorus were among the first to leave. Karen said that they were going to stay with her Uncle Robert and Aunt Tina in Los Angeles. Though sad to leave Jenny and her other friends, at least Karen would get to spend some time with her little cousin, Nico. Of course, Jenny and Karen would still keep in touch by muggle mail, mirror and owl post, but it just wasn't the same as living within walking distance of each other like they had been since they were babies.

Now the dining room only had half as many tables set up as it had when the DWC had first opened what now seemed like a long time ago, but had only been a few days in actuality. And by this time tomorrow, even _fewer _tables would be needed. Katie and Julie told Jenny that their family would be leaving tomorrow morning after breakfast to a home they found in Nevada. And the Cobblers, Scarsdales and Cassidys were expected to be relocated by the end of the week.

This left Corey and Jenny as the oldest kids at the DWC since most of the older children were already away at school when the Incursion hit. The vast majority of them were at the Randolph Carter School for Witches and Wizards in the MIskatonic Valley. But because Randolph Carter was uncomfortably close to the Incursion in Maine, many families had pulled their children out and were attempting to have them transferred to Hogwarts or Beauxbatons or even Durmstrang. Still others were considering traditional magical home schooling. Even the Salem Witches' Institute announced that it would be closed pending more information about the nature of the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms.

And as the number of residents at the DWC began to decrease, the meals served were also getting simpler. Jenny remembered the first dinner served the day after they got there. To help bolster morale, a traditional Maine feast was served consisting of steamed clams and boiled lobster with corn and baked potatoes and all the Moxie you could drink.

Today it was chili-dogs, potato salad, coleslaw and ice cream for dessert with Pepsi; Moxie being in short supply. In truth, Jenny liked this kind of meal better, but she would have absolutely killed for a bottle or a can of Moxie to go with it. Fortunately for her, Corey came to her rescue.

Just as the Jordans and the Malfoys arrived at the dining room, Corey was at the entrance with his mom and dad waiting for them. He had showered and changed into a new pair of jeans and a new, clean tee-shirt and brand-new Nikes supplied by the Relocation Committee. He asked Jenny if she wanted to join him for dinner at one of the empty tables, just the two of them. He even had a can of Moxie that they could share. The can of Moxie was warm, having been kept in Corey's nightstand in his family's room. But Corey's mom chilled it to perfection with a quick tug on her ear before she and Corey's dad went to their table. Jenny would never forget the way Corey smiled when she accepted his invitation.

"Now, be sure to have our Jenny home by curfew, young man," said her dad with a barely concealed chuckle as he watched his daughter and Corey choose a table and then head for the cafeteria line.

Jenny's parents smiled as she and Corey went to choose a table. But as Jenny looked back, she also could not help but notice the looks on the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Not quite a look of disapproval; more like thinly veiled disgust. She could just imagine the dinner conversation that her mom and dad would have with the stuck-up Malfoy family . . . .

"We'll watch the kids while Aggie and Narcissa get their plates, Lucius," said Ren Jordan as he set Ricky in his booster seat at the table. After Narcissa set Draco in his seat, she and Aggie went to the cafeteria line. Narcissa said that she had never had a chili-dog before, but Aggie promised to show her how to "load one up" when they got to the line.

This was unlike any other dinner party that Narcissa had ever attended. Even when she was at Hogwarts, the food was teleported directly to the individual House Tables from the kitchen below the Great Hall. But these Colonials seemed to go out of their way to do everything by hand as though they were muggles. Aggie showed her how to get a tray, plate and silverware from the line and how to "load up" a chili-dog with chopped onions, peppers, and something called "relish."

And through it all, Narcissa managed to keep calm and carry on, despite the overwhelming urge to hex this muggle cow who dared to treat her as though she was her equal! Again, Narcissa reminded herself why she and her family were here and vowed to keep calm and carry on . . . .

When they finished going through the food line, Aggie showed Narcissa how to work the drink dispensers. Narcissa took what Aggie called a "glass" (though it was made out of that same quintessential muggle material as Aggie's son's toy ball: plastic,) and then Aggie showed her how to use the ice dispenser and decant a beverage. Narcissa cringed again; the only tea available was "iced tea." So Narcissa took a drink called "Pepsi." She remembered her sister Bellatrix had had some on a trip to the Colonies when she was in her teens; describing it as a light, bubbly muggle-brewed wine with a mild caramel flavour.

When Aggie and Narcissa got back to their table, Ren and Lucius got up to go to the line. Narcissa was relieved to see that a volunteer working the dining area had brought a simpler (and less spicy) meal of broiled chicken with steamed peas and carrots for Draco, though Aggie was giving her son Ricky some of what she was eating. Narcissa grimaced inwardly as she watched the two-year-old American wizard get as much food on his face and clothes as he managed to get into his mouth. _Though as he has a muggle mother, atrocious table manners were the _least_ of the poor boy's problems . . . ._

Aggie smiled wanly, "Looks like I'll have to give Ricky a thorough hosing-down before bedtime."

"Or, you could ask your husband perform a simple _evanescence_ charm on him," said Narcissa neutrally. "Your husband _does_ know how to perform such a spell, I presume?"

"Yes, he can use magic to clean off our son, Narcissa," said Aggie after swallowing a big bite of chili-dog. "And I expect that in another year or so, Jenny will be able to do it as well. But sometimes it's better to be more "hands-on" with your kids.

"Ren has told me that wizards in the UK and Europe are more likely to use magic for things like cleaning off a child after a messy meal. But that in the US, most magic users don't whip out a wand or twitch a nose for something simple like that.

"Out of curiosity, Narcissa; is this the first _real _conversation that you have ever had with a muggle?"

"Well, yes, as a matter of fact, it is . . . ," said Narcissa, unsure of where Aggie was going.

"If it makes you feel any better, this kind of puts you where I was about fourteen years ago; back when Ren and I started dating. Of course, I did not know at the time that my boyfriend had the ability to make the known laws of physics sit in the corner for a time-out. In fact, he did not even tell me that he was a wizard until after we were married. Before that, I had absolutely no concept of magic as something that was real. But after being married to a wizard for a few years, well, let's just say that my horizons expanded quite a bit."

A few moments later, Ren and Lucius returned from the cafeteria line, and Aggie could tell just from looking that the men must have had a similar conversation. Curiosity got the better of her, but Ren said that they just, "Oh, you know, we talked about Quidditch . . . and stuff . . . ." But from the look on her husband's face, Aggie knew that the ". . . and stuff," part had to be as interesting as her own conversation was with Narcissa.

A little later, Jenny and Corey came over to the Jordans' and Malfoys' table on their way to the ice cream station. Narcissa had to mentally restrain herself as she saw that the young, half-blood witch was actually holding hands with the muggle boy.

"So, how are you kids doing?" said Jenny's father.

"Great, dad," said Jenny.

"I had _two _chili-dogs, Mr. Jordan," said Corey beaming. "With _extra_ onions."

"Well, as Jenny's father, I have to say that that puts my mind at ease . . . ," said Ren smiling.

"Ayuh," said Corey mischievously. "Best to leave _all_ the windows _open_ tonight, _if _you _know_ what I _mean_ . . . ."

"Let me give you some sage advice, son," said Ren smiling though no less serious. "If it were just us _guys _here," Ren indicated Mr. Malfoy (who could not conceal wincing,) and Draco and Ricky. "That would be one thing. But keep in mind that there are _ladies _present," Ren nodded to Aggie and Narcissa before turning to look at Jenny. "And one of them is my _daughter _. . . ."

"Oh," said Corey. "I get what you mean."

"It's OK, dad," said Jenny giggling. "We're going to get some ice cream, now." The two children said goodbye and ran off to the line that was starting to form at the ice cream machine.

A few minutes after the kids left to get their ice cream, the Jordans and the Malfoys were joined by Corey's parents, Dr. Ken and Healer Rachel Martindale. After exchanging a few pleasantries, Ken went to the ice cream station to get a cone for himself and his wife. When he was out of earshot, Narcissa Malfoy asked Rachel Martindale how she and her muggle husband first met.

"Well, it's no big secret," said Rachel. "I met my husband, Doctor Ken Martindale, at a medical convention about seven years ago. He is what muggles call a 'General Practitioner.' We fell in love, got married, and I adopted Corey as my son. My husband and I both work at the Potomac Shore Wizard's Hospital where Ken is our resident muggle medical consultant."

Narcissa persisted, "But doesn't it bother you that your husband and son are unable to do any magic?"

Healer Martindale shook her head, sighed, and said, "Mrs. Malfoy, my husband and my son are _muggles_; not coma patients. I may never be able to give Corey broom riding lessons, much less see him join a Little League Quodpot team, but I could not ask for a better, more loving son."

Before either of the Malfoys could reply, a loud, ear-piercing noise came from the front of the room, followed by a voice saying, "Testing . . . testing . . . testing." Lucius felt his gut tighten when he saw the source of the voice. At the front of the room, speaking into a fat, silver wand joined by a cord to a large box was a young Indian gentleman in a suit who wore the turban of a Sikh.

"Time for the "Six-O-Clock Follies," said Rachel with a shrug. "Maybe this time we'll find out something useful . . . ."


	7. Starring Contests

**Chapter Seven: Staring Contests**

Lucius immediately recognized the man at the front of the room. In fact, so did everyone in the wizarding world. As a boy, Hadji Singh, an orphaned, pure-blood wizard, had been adopted by a muggle; a scandal that shook the Pureblood Wizarding World to its very foundations. And to add insult to injury, the muggle who adopted the boy, Dr. Benton Quest, happened to be a very famous scientist. The very thought of what that poor boy must have endured at the hands of a muggle scientist turned Lucius' stomach. Lucius wondered how many experiments Hadji's "father" inflicted upon him so that muggles could learn the secrets of magic . . . ?

"May I have everyone's attention, please?" said Agent Quest-Singh in his too-perfect American accent. "Our Update Session for tonight will begin in a few more moments. We are having some problems setting up the slide projector, so please bear with us. When you see what we have to show you I think that you will agree that it will be worth the wait."

A man with long, blonde hair, who spoke with an English accent said, "Are you finally going to show us what is inside the Incursion? I know that the FBS has obtained some seeing stones." The man was sitting at a table near the front with a platinum-blonde woman who was holding a small baby. Before Agent Quest-Singh could answer, the man continued, "My name is _Xenophilius _Lovegood, Agent Quest-Singh. I am a journalist for the _Quibbler_." _Xenophilius _held out a roll of parchment. "Here are my Press Credentials."

Agent Quest-Singh set down the mike, and went over to the table to examine the parchment. "I've never heard of the _Quibbler_, Mr. Lovegood. But this seems in order. And you will find out what we have to present along with everyone else." The two wizards glared at each other.

The woman holding the baby rose from her chair, and said, "There is really no need for the two of you to be so adversarial." She then turned to Hadji and added, "Agent Quest-Singh, the _Quibbler_ is a new Wizarding Tabloid started by my husband a few years ago. He used to write for the _Daily Prophet_, but did not like their . . . approach to reporting the news during the War."

"What Pandora is trying to say so politely, Agent Quest-Singh, is that during the War, the _Daily Prophet_ had all-but become the pet of the Ministry of Magic. For the press to be trusted, it needs must remain fully independent."

"I couldn't agree more," said Hadji. "But for now you'll just need to be patient as we get the slide projector ready."

"I can help you with that, if you want me to, Agent Quest-Singh," said a voice filled with girlish enthusiasm. The adults turned to see that they were joined at the table by Jenny Jordan and Corey Martindale.

Hadji smiled, gave a quick salute, and said, "I think that we have everything under control, Honorary Junior Auror Jordan."

"Well, I'm not speaking as an Honorary Junior Auror, Sir," said Jenny. "Corey and I helped with the AV department at Collinsport Elementary. I think that maybe we can figure it out, can't we, Corey? Corey . . . ?"

Jenny saw that Corey had sat down at the table, and was having an impromptu staring contest with the Lovegood's baby daughter. She stared back at Corey with wide, protruding eyes that gave the impression that she was perpetually amazed by the world around her. Though Corey made a valiant effort, he blinked first, and said, "I should have known. There is no way that _anyone_ can win a staring contest with a baby!"

"But that won't stop you from trying," said Jenny dryly. She turned to Mrs. Lovegood, and said, "My name is Jennifer Jordan and this is my friend, Corey Martindale. What's your daughter's name, Ma'am?"

"Luna," said Pandora. "Luna Lovegood. The alliteration gives it a pleasant ring, don't you think?"

"Yeah," said Jenny with a knowing smile. "Alliterative names _are_ the best . . . ."

"It's a neat name!" said Corey, smiling a broad, eleven-year-old's grin. "Kind of makes her sound like a character from the "Superman" comics."

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Boys!"

Before Pandora Lovegood could ask who "Superman" was, the witch working the slide projector said, "That's got it. We're ready to go, Hadji."

"Please speak with me after your presentation, Agent Quest-Singh," said Xenophilius as Hadji left. "I do want to interview you and your father and brother for the _Quibbler_. It would make a fine Human Interest Story."

Agent Quest-Singh nodded, said a quick goodbye to the Lovegoods and the two kids, and went back to the front of the room.

"What do you want to talk with him about, sir?" said Jenny.

"Surely you must have heard about Hadji Quest-Singh, Jenny?" said Xenophilius Lovegood. "When he was about your age, he was an orphan, living on the streets in India, and ended up being adopted by a very famous muggle scientist named Dr. Benton Quest. Have you children ever heard of him?"

Corey said, "Yes, Mr. Lovegood. He's right up there with guys like Tony Stark and Dr. Reed Richards."

Xenophilius nodded and continued, "At first, nobody paid much attention. But when young Hadji's magical powers started to manifest, it was discovered that he was from a long-line of Pureblooded wizards and witches. The adoption was contested all the way up to the highest levels of the Indian Wizengamot. In fact, Jenny, I believe that your parents are currently sharing a table with the family that led the effort . . . ."

Jenny looked back to the table where her parents and the Malfoys were sitting. She noticed that Corey's parents had joined them. Jenny pointed this out to Corey, (who was attempting yet another staring contest with Luna,) and both kids waived to their parents and signaled that they were now sitting up front with the Lovegoods. When her dad gave them the "thumbs-up" in reply, Jenny turned back to Mr. Lovegood, and said, "The Malfoys tried to stop the adoption? That figures!"

Pandora said, "Well, not Lucius and Narcissa, Jenny. It was Lucius' father, Abraxas Malfoy, who attempted to have the adoption overturned. In fact, he wanted custody of Hadji, himself. If he had succeeded, Lucius and Hadji would have been raised as brothers. And I fear that Hadji would have been brought up to believe all that "Pureblood" nonsense." She turned to Corey and said, "You know, you are something of a minor celebrity, too, young man."

"I am?" said Corey.

"Not many witches adopt muggle sons, you know," said Xenophilius. "At least, not in the UK and Europe. In fact, you are the only muggle I know of to be adopted by someone from our world."

Jenny said, "Well, our friend Katie Dorsey is a muggle, and she was adopted by a wizard who married her mother. My dad says that stuff like that is more common than most wizards and witches may realize."

Xenophilius nodded warmly, and said, "Corey, I would be grateful if you would introduce me to your parents after the Maine Incursion update session. I would like to interview your family for the _Quibbler_; and the Dorsey family as well. For that matter, I would like to talk with your parents too, Jenny. It is important that the voice of the Pureblood Fanatics not be the only one to be heard."

Corey said, "I'll talk with my mom and dad when the assembly is over, sir."

"Me too," said Jenny.

Moments after Xenophilius Lovegood thanked Corey and Jenny, the speakers at the front of the room hummed and Agent Quest-Singh spoke into the microphone.

"Testing, testing . . . . May I have everyone's attention, please? I have a few announcements before we begin. Following the Question and Answer session at the end of this evening's presentation, we have visitors from the Wizarding UK; a Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, who would like to address the assembly." Agent Quest-Singh gestured to the table where the Malfoys were sitting and the entire room looked in their direction. Lucius Malfoy nodded in acknowledgement, and Agent Quest-Singh continued. "We would also like everyone's cooperation when the meeting ends tonight, and would like some volunteers to assist with the cleanup."

Jenny said, "We'll help with the cleanup, won't we, Corey? Corey . . . ?" Jenny had to tap her friend on his shoulder when she saw that he was engaged in the latest round of the staring contest battle between him and Luna Lovegood.

"Aw, Jenny, I almost won this time!"

"The meeting is starting!" said Jenny in an urgent whisper. "We've got to be quiet and listen!"

The room was now as dark as it was quiet as the witch working the slide projector awaited Agent Quest-Singh's signal to begin. Jenny Jordan's attention was riveted on the screen at the front of the room.

"This is it, Corey!" said Jenny. "We're finally going to see what came thorough! What do you bet that it's an army of Orcs or Ogres lead by some evil wizard or king? Boy, will they ever be in for a surprise when they see that we can do magic too, and that we have mutants with all kinds of powers that they won't be expecting and that our muggles will be charging at them with tanks and jets instead of on horses, isn't that right Corey? Corey . . . ?"

Jenny sighed and shook her head. In the dim light reflected from the screen, she saw her friend attempt yet another staring contest with the Lovegood's baby daughter.

_Boys!_ thought Jenny with a girlish roll of her eyes. She then turned her attention to the screen to get a good look at who was stupid enough to invade our world, awaiting the first slide with baited breath . . . .


	8. Disappointment On So Many Levels

**Chapter 8: Disappointment On So Many Levels**

Any hope that Jenny Jordan, or anyone else in the dining hall for that matter, had of seeing pictures of what came through from the Enchanted Realms were dashed when the first slide was shown. There were no pictures of armies of orcs, trolls, ogres, or any other fell monsters from the Enchanted Realms, ready to move against our world at the behest of some Warlord Mage.

Instead, it was a picture of a house. A nice looking, single level Ranch, Jenny had to admit. But it was just a house.

Agent Quest-Singh said, "The Bureau has nothing new to report regarding the Incursion since the briefing session last night."

A wizard's voice from the back, enhanced by a sonorous charm, said, "You mean, nothing new that _you_ want to tell _us_ about! C'mon! We're adults here! Adults and taxpayers! Stop treating us like we're helpless! Whatever came through, we can handle it!"

Another, yelling voice, this one belonging to a witch near the front, added, "Please don't try to tell us that the house on the slide is what came through!"

Voices of assent came from other tables. Agent Quest-Singh raised his hand for quiet, and got some semblance of it a few moments later. Turning the mike up, he continued. "This house and others like it that are being shown tonight in our slide presentation have been found by the Relocation Committee and are available for families in need of places to stay.

"Now, after tonight's question and answer session, we have some visitors from the UK's Wizarding Community, who would like to address this assembly. When they are finished speaking, everyone who has not found a new residence is encouraged to speak with the Relocation Committee, who have tables set up to my right."

Another voice from the back said, "Will they be able to relocate my bookstore from Collinsport as well, Agent Quest-Singh? Just how am I supposed to make a living if I'm forced to live somewhere in another state while my store is still in Maine?"

The voices rose again, with queries similar to the first. Everyone wanted to know when it would be safe to return to their homes and businesses. But Agent Quest-Singh had no answers to those questions. None that he was authorized to give, at any rate.

Agent Quest-Singh wished that he could say more to the wizards and witches who were forced to leave their homes at a moment's notice without the aid of magic. He felt that they deserved to know more. But he understood Director DeMarigny's reasons for keeping the nature of the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms on a need-to-know basis. And there were moments since this whole thing began when Hadji wished that he was not in the loop. But he had developed the first pictures of what had come through – had read the initial reports of the Spellcrackers. And as the implications of what was happening started to form in his mind, so did the unshakable feelings of dread.

_I should never have been asked to make the presentation here, tonight_, he thought. _If I were in their shoes, I would want to know more and I would resent the smug Auror at the mike who knew more than he was telling._ But since the Incursion came through, the Bureau had been spread thin. The blown-out MADS Network stations needed to be repaired, plus new stations surrounding the Incursion needed to be set up, and the Aurors had to work double-time. It was just luck-of-the-draw that he was tapped for the Update Session at the DWC this evening.

Hadji knew what came through. But he also knew that if he told them what he had seen – showed them the pictures that the little girl sitting at the table with the Lovegoods _doesn't_ remember taking with her family as they fled their home – then he knew that the FBS would probably also have a panic on their hands to deal with. And panicked magic users were never a good thing.

Not that panicked muggles were any better. According to Director DeMarigny, there was already talk among the muggle agencies that the White Council should be given an Osterhagen Key in case the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms proved too unstoppable a threat for Earth's own magic users.

Hadji found himself almost wishing that it was "only" an army of orcs, trolls, ogres and warlocks riding fire-breathing dragons. At least, that could be dealt with. Hadji hadn't felt this scared since he was the same age as Jenny and Corey that day when his jet pack would not ignite and that monster of pure electricity was coming closer and closer . . . .

Hadji said (somewhat lamely, he knew,) "The Relocation Committee will be discussing the relocation of your businesses and helping with the location of new jobs in the areas where people relocate in addition to finding you a new place to stay." He winced at his own response. Worse, he could see the smug, amused look on Lucius Malfoy's face at a table in the middle of the dining hall meeting his eyes. Hadji didn't like it. But that stuck-up "pureblood" might just be a way out of this uncomfortable predicament.

Agent Quest-Singh said, "For now, we did promise Mr. Lucius Malfoy an opportunity to address this assembly. So I would like for Mr. Malfoy to come up to the front at this time. Perhaps he has something constructive to say that may be of help."

Everyone in the room paused as a traditionally dressed wizard with long, blonde hair rose from his chair and began walking toward the front of the room. "For those of you who do not recognize me, my name is Lucius Malfoy. And I have come here to provide assistance – both financial as well as a message of hope, to my fellow wizards and witches who were displaced from their homes and businesses."

Hadji turned off the mike as Lucius came up to him. Partly because he knew that Malfoy would prefer a sonorous spell to address the room; but mostly because he did not want whatever Lucius Malfoy had to say to him personally to become public knowledge.

"It's been a long time, Hadji," said Lucius in a quiet tone.

Hadji also lowered his voice. "I would prefer it if you addressed me as Agent Quest-Singh, and I shall address you as Mr. Malfoy."

"Had things been differently, we could have addressed each other as "brother" in the familial sense of the word, as opposed to in the sense that we are both wizards of superior stock, Agent Quest-Singh," said Lucius affably.

"Thanks," said Hadji. "But as you know, I already have a brother, Dr. Johnathan Quest."

"A muggle," said Lucius dryly. "The same as your adopted "father." Tell me, Agent Quest-Singh, did your "brother" assist your "father" in the experiments they undoubtedly performed on you in a futile attempt to learn the secret of magic?"

Hadji smiled thinly as he said, "Not that it is any of your business, Malfoy, but the only thing that my father ever did to me that may be considered "scientific" was to take my temperature when I was sick before he called the family pediatrician; the same as he would do whenever my brother John got sick. My father and brother don't understand magic. But they accept the fact that it exists and that I can do it. And for family, that is more than enough.

"Now, as scintillating as this conversation is, I would like to ask you to give whatever sales pitch that you plan to give, and then leave me alone to do my job. In case you haven't noticed, things have been rather busy around these parts, lately . . . ."

Lucius Malfoy smiled. "Of course, Agent Quest-Singh."

"Oh, and Malfoy? If anything _magical _should happen to my brother, father, or our good friend, Mr. Bannon, then you and I are going to have a little conversation. And in case I haven't made myself clear. That was, indeed, a threat. Leave my family alone.

"Now, have a good time saying whatever it is that you are going to say. After all, this is a free country, you know."

Lucius smiled. "Of course, Agent Quest-Singh. All that I ask of you is that, as a wizard, you listen to what I say with an open mind."

Hadji wanted to say that he intended to listen very carefully to whatever comes from the mouth of a "former" Death Eater, but decided not to. Let Malfoy get the last word in. For now, it was a time for listening. Hadji knew that the bad guys loved to talk and that if you let them, they would invariably say more than they intended to say. Silently, Hadji offered the mike to Lucius, who backed away from the muggle electronic device as quickly as a vampire would from a religious talisman, giving Hadji a small sense of satisfaction.

At the Lovegood's table, Jenny nudged Corey, (who had given up on trying to outstare Luna and instead tried to get a reaction from her by making funny faces,) to make him pay attention. She suspected that the Malfoys were up to no good, and wanted to be certain that her friend was following along with whatever Lucius Malfoy was saying in case she missed something important.

Lucius held the tip of his wand to his neck and spoke, his voice amplified by the sonorous spell that he placed upon himself. "My fellow Wizards and Witches," began Lucius. "And . . . others present. My name is Lucius Malfoy, and I am here with my wife and son to offer assistance to our brothers and sisters who had been forced to leave their homes and relocate due to the Arrival of our fellow magic users from the Enchanted Realms.

"Now, though it is the opinion of your Federal Bureau of Sorcery and my country's Ministry of Magic, among others, that the Arrival of this so-called "Incursion" is cause for alarm, I do not believe this to be the case. There is no indication whatsoever that the sudden Arrival of our brethren from the Enchanted Realms is an act of hostility. Indeed, I believe that the Arrival – and I say "Arrival" as opposed to "Incursion" - because I believe that they are here for reasons that we shall soon discover are nothing less than beneficent.

"Instead of us assuming that this is some kind of hostile "invasion" to be repelled; we should be preparing to welcome whoever came through from the lands of our ancestors with open arms. For their presence here in our world heralds a new chapter in the history of Wizardkind. With their aid and guidance, we shall finally take our birthright as the true leaders of humanity; an event that shall lead to a better life for all.

"For too long, even before the passage of the ill-conceived Statute of Secrecy that has relegated Our Kind to second-class citizenship; we Wizards and Witches have been forced into the shadows by the world's muggles because of their fear and jealousy of our powers. Why is this, I ask you?

"It is because the muggles of this world outnumber us by such overwhelming numbers, that we would not stand a chance were we to confront them directly. And if their numbers are not enough to give us pause, their science and technology – normally pale substitutes for real magic, greatly enhances their destructive abilities.

"Did you know that muggles have the ability to destroy an entire city with _one_ weapon? And individually, they are no less deadly. I have brought some literature for your perusal. Kindly pay special attention to the pamphlet entitled, "When Muggles Attack."

"Yes, my brothers and sisters," continued Lucius. "Our world shall be so much better for all of humanity once we are the ones in charge. Why should we assume the role of Merlin to a muggle's King Arthur? Why should we accept the role of Jannes and Jambres to a muggle's Ramses? The day of muggle rule over humanity is fast coming to its end.

"It is my belief that when our brethren from the Enchanted Realms emerge from behind their concealment spells from their stronghold in Maine, that they will aid us in these aims and much, much more. These are indeed exciting times that we are living in. The muggles have had their turn, and we have all suffered by their lack of vision and incompetence. And when we take our rightful place as the true rulers of humanity, it shall herald the start of an eternal reign of peaceful, benevolent and enlightened rule that the muggles of this world shall welcome with open arms and gratitude."

When Lucius had finished his speech, the room erupted in a loud and vigorous applause. Lucius smiled as he looked out at his audience. But when he looked closer, he noticed that they were not smiling or clapping out of a sense of relief that their second-class citizenship was about to end. No, the closer Lucius Malfoy looked; he saw that the audience's smiles were smiles of amusement. It was as though they were being entertained instead of enlightened.

A voice came from the back: "Hey, Hadji, this guy is great! Does he do weddings and Bar Mitzvahs?"

"Hey, Malfoy," came another voice, this time from a witch in the front of the room. "We just got a call from Latveria; Dr. Victor von Doom wants his dialogue back!"

A wizard said, "I wanna see Lucius Malfoy host "Saturday Night Live!"

Yet another wizard's voice said, amid giggles, "Wait. You're really being serious, aren't you?"

"I am being quite serious, my good man," replied Lucius. "The day the wizards and witches residing behind the concealment spells in Maine emerge will be the day when all of you – ALL OF YOU! Will need to make some very important choices that will have very serious consequences for your future! Those who get their magic by thievery shall no longer be tolerated when that day arrives . . . !"

At the Jordan's table, Narcissa shifted uncomfortably, as much from the reception that her husband was receiving as the fact that she and her son were sitting alone at a table with two muggles and two blood-traitors. And she could tell that her husband's speech was not well-received.

Narcissa could have guessed this. It was a well-known fact that most Colonial Wizards were half-blooded at best, and were just as likely to marry a muggle as they were anyone with even a smattering of magical ability. The few Pureblooded Wizarding families here, the Garwins, the Danvers, the Addamses and the Halliwells, seemed hell-bent on spawning a next generation of half-bloods. Worse, they seemed proud of it.

But even worse still, Narcissa saw that Draco and Ricky Jordan were smiling at each other, laughing at each other's antics from their booster seats at the table. By sheer luck alone, Narcissa managed to catch Lucius' eye, signaling him to come back to the table. Lucius did this amid the cat-calls and snickers of those in attendance, taking his seat with as much dignity as befitting the scion of an ancient, pureblooded family.

Ren did not even try to suppress a snicker. "That was a pretty good performance, Lucius. Believe me; we all needed a good laugh."

"It is no laughing matter, Mr. Jordan," hissed Lucius. "You will see! A new day of Pureblood Supremacy will dawn!"

Then Narcissa turned to Healer Martindale, and said, "And you may rest assured that no witch from the Enchanted Realms would ever stoop so low as to adopt a _muggle boy_ for a son!" Rachel rolled her eyes, but was thankful that Corey was at another table with his friend Jenny, and did not have to hear Mrs. Malfoy's insult.

The Malfoys said nothing more as they rose from the table. Lucius removed his son from the booster seat, the boy waiving to Ricky as he was handed off to Narcissa. But before they could leave the Jordans and the Martindales without so much as a goodbye, the loudspeaker came on as Agent Quest-Singh made the final announcements of the evening.

"Well, I want to thank Mr. Malfoy for his excellent satirical portrayal of a Death Eater," said Agent Quest-Singh with a sly grin. "That was some much-needed comic-relief, and believe me, we sure needed it! Now, let's give another big round of applause for Mr. Lucius Malfoooooy!"

Lucius Malfoy stood as still as a statue, maintaining what the Colonials called a "Poker Face."

Agent Quest-Singh continued. "Now, I want to take this opportunity to remind all in attendance that the Evacuation Order issued by the FBS the evening of October 22, 1983, is still in effect, and will _remain_ in effect indefinitely; at least until we can learn more about the nature of the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms.

"I cannot stress enough that the areas shown on the maps in your orientation packets have been declared "No-Magic Zones," and are off-limits to all wizards and witches until further notice. The Bureau believes that those responsible for the Incursion are unaware of our presence; that they think our world has no indigenous magic, and we want them to go on thinking this.

"So if anyone here," Agent Quest-Singh looked directly at Lucius Malfoy. "Has any ideas of trying to go to Maine with the intention of making contact with the, ah, "Mother Ship;" I cannot emphasize strongly enough that they will be discovered and arrested by Aurors who currently have the entire area under surveillance. And those arrested will be spending a very long time as a guest of Miskatonic Penitentiary . . . .

"That is all that I have to say this evening. For now, I would like to pass the mike along to a representative of the Morale Committee. Mrs. Aggie Jordan, please step up to the mike!"

Mrs. Jordan went to the front of the room, took the mike from Agent Quest-Singh, and called for volunteers to clean up the dining hall and make it ready for breakfast the next morning.

The Malfoy family stomped out in a huff. That was the final straw for them; wizards and witches actually taking orders from a _muggle_!

As they left, Aggie sighed as she saw little Draco wave goodbye to her son and how Narcissa shifted the way she held him to block Ricky from Draco's line of sight.

Unconsciously, Aggie found herself singing to herself, "You've Got to be Carefully Taught," from the movie "South Pacific." She sighed again, feeling sorry for little Draco Malfoy, and threw herself into the task of helping to clear tables before meeting with the Lovegoods for the interview that she and Ren promised them, hoping to get as many answers as she gave.


	9. The Lovegood Family

**Chapter 9: The Lovegood Family**

It had been a busy night for Xenophilius and Pandora Lovegood. The couple had many journalistic irons in the fire plus a baby daughter to look after. Yet they still managed to complete the stories they planned to publish in the_ Quibbler_ the moment that they got back to the UK. Let the UK's _Daily Prophet_ and the American _Towne Scryer_ cover the main story about the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms and its implications for the world in general and the Wizarding World in particular.

Those Mainstream Wizarding papers could have their "big" stories; like the one about the American muggle President (with the full support from the UK's muggle Prime Minister,) wanting to target the Incursion in Maine with something called a "Titan II missile." The _Quibbler_ would focus instead on the effect the Incursion was having on the families that were forced to flee everything they knew and loved at a moment's notice. Those were the real stories that needed to be told about the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms. Xenophilius Lovegood shook his head. He wondered if the wizards and witches responsible for the Incursion knew or even cared about the suffering that they were causing in our world . . . .

But this excursion to the American Colonies, which the Lovegoods had actually began several days before the Incursion came through, also presented another journalistic opportunity for the _Quibbler_. Here was an unprecedented opportunity for them to interview so many blended wizard/muggle families at one place at the same time. And they would begin these interviews with the Martindale, Dorsey and Jordan families.

Xenophilius believed that as more blended wizard/muggle families came forward, that the commonplaceness of it would push the Pureblood Supremacists to the margins; most of them, anyway. There would always be those whose minds were so ruled by hatred that they were beyond reaching out to. But the Lovegoods could not worry about reaching those minds. Pureblood Supremacists would think what they wanted to think. Just so long as they knew that the society that they lived in would not tolerate any harm being committed against families like the Quests, the Martindales, the Dorseys and the Jordans.

Xenophilius could even envision a time when the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy would be all by repealed, heralding the start of a better, more open era for wizards, muggles and mutants alike. It would be a much better world for Luna to grow up in than the world she was born into – that much was certain.

The interview with Agent Quest-Singh and his family would have to be postponed indefinitely, as the FBS agent had a full plate on his hands with the Incursion in Maine. The fact that the Malfoy family stated their intention to remain in the Colonies for another few days couldn't have helped much, either. But Agent Quest-Singh did say that he would speak with his father and brother and that a time would be set when they could all meet with the Lovegoods.

The Dorsey family and their two lovely daughters; a nine year old witch and a seven year old muggle, had their hands full packing up since they would be leaving the DWC in the morning. So in the end, all the Lovegoods could do was request their permission to contact them later, when they had settled in to their new home.

But the Lovegoods' interview with the Martindales and the Jordans had been quite comprehensive. For the past two hours, the Lovegoods spoke with the Martindale and Jordan families in the now all but empty dining room of the DWC about the ins and outs of being part of a blended wizarding/muggle family. And in the case of the Jordan family, this was not a moment too soon. As the Lovegoods spoke with the Martindales, the Jordans had met with the Relocation Committee, and had been able to find a new home in St. Louis, Missouri; where they would be going in another day or so to start a new life. When Ren and Aggie Jordan returned to the table, the Lovegoods were almost finished speaking with the Martindales.

"Now, Corey," said Xenophilius. "There is one more thing that I would like to ask you." Corey nodded and Xenophilius continued. "Have you ever wished that you could do magic the way your mother does? Have you ever wanted to be a wizard instead of a muggle, Corey?"

Corey looked over at his mother and his father, who gave him a nod of encouragement. Then he turned to Xenophilius, shrugged and said, "Sure, from time to time. Like, I've ridden on a broom with my mom _lots_ of times. But it _would_ be totally awesome if I could actually fly a broom all by myself. I'd bet that I would make a good Quodpot or Quidditch player. But that's alright. I like to play Baseball and Hockey and Basketball and I've taken up Surfing. I sure hope that wherever we move to has a beach nearby! But, you know, for the most part, I'm pretty happy with things the way they are with my family. It's kind of hard to explain in words . . . .

"Mr. Lovegood, how about you? Have you ever wondered what it might be like if you _couldn't_ do any magic? I mean, if you were a muggle, you wouldn't have to worry about keeping a lot of secrets about how you can do magic, or whether or not your daughter might jump off a swing in public and float down in front of a whole bunch of muggles when she is my age."

Xenophilius nodded thoughtfully, and said, "I can't say that I ever have, Corey. But I do see your point. I believe that what you are saying to me is that there are advantages and disadvantages with being able to do magic or not."

Corey nodded and said, "The important thing is that my mom and dad love each other and they love me and I love them. _We're a family_. And after that, everything else is unimportant."

It was 9:00 pm by the time the interview was over and the Martindales returned to their room with Jenny coming along to watch a late movie with Corey. This allowed the Jordans and the Lovegoods to continue their conversation as Ricky Jordan and Luna Lovegood slept in their mothers' laps.

"Mrs. Jordan, did you really say _that_ to Narcissa Malfoy?" said Pandora Lovegood incredulously. "Did you really ask her if she had a "problem" with you being a muggle who is married to a wizard?"

"Yes, I said that to her," said Aggie. "Oh, and please call me "Aggie." She snuggled Ricky, who was sound asleep in her arms. "I mean, the interview is over. We really don't have to be so formal anymore. May I call you, "Pandora?"

"Of course you may." The English witch looked down at the baby girl in her arms and smiled as her daughter slept soundly. "But I think that "Dori" would be better; if I am to call you "Aggie" instead of "Agatha."

"And please call me "Xeno," said her husband smiling. The Jordans nodded and the conversation continued.

Aggie said, "Please believe me, Dori. I wasn't _trying_ to insult Mrs. Malfoy or make her uncomfortable. But it seemed like she took offense to every other word that I said. You should have seen the look on her face . . . ."

Xeno raised his eyebrow at Aggie's last comment. There was no mockery in her voice when she said it. No boasting, either. If anything, her voice betrayed perplexity. "The Malfoys are, shall we say, somewhat _provincial_, Aggie. It is likely that you were the first muggle that they ever spoke with at length, if at all. You probably made them nervous. Also, back home, Old-Stock Pureblood Wizarding families like the Malfoys expect a certain . . . _deference_ from other wizards and witches; deference that they apparently did not get from the local Wizarding community here in the Colonies."

"I think that our hosts would prefer it if you said "The States," instead of "The Colonies," Xeno," said Dori with just a trace of admonishment. "They haven't been our "Colonials" since 1776, you know."

"Of course, Dori," said Xeno. "Where are my manners?"

"No, it's alright, Xeno," said Aggie. "To be honest, I kind of like the way that you and your wife talk. It's weird, but an English accent and vocabulary makes you and Dori sound more friendly and folksy. But in the case of the Malfoys, it actually makes them sound more snobbish and stuck-up; like they've got some kind of Superiority Complex, or something."

"Well, that is because they _do_ think that they are better than most everyone else," said Dori matter-of-factly. "Not just better than muggles - which is practically a given, but that they are better than most other wizards as well."

"They sure do seem obsessed with genealogy," said Ren. "When Lucius and I were in line getting our dinner tonight, he wanted to know my ancestry in detail. He also told me his own ancestry, and even claimed that THE Morgana Le Fay was his ancestor, and that she came from the Enchanted Realms."

"So that was the ". . . and stuff," part of your conversation with Lucius, I take it?" said Aggie.

"Hey, wait, it gets "better," said Ren. "He insisted that I speak with the Lovegoods here about arranging a _betrothal contract_ for Ricky and Luna!"

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me, Ren," said Aggie, more amused than incredulous. Then to the Lovegoods, she added, "I mean, Luna is a cutie, and all, but an _arranged marriage_ in this day and age? This is the 20th Century, after all!"

Dori said, "It happens all the time in Our World, Aggie; especially among Pureblood families. In fact, shortly after Luna was born, Narcissa contacted me for the same reason; to investigate a betrothal with Luna for her son, Draco. Now, you understand that Betrothal Arrangements in Our World are traditionally made by the witches. But, as you are a muggle, Aggie . . . ."

"What did you do?" said Aggie. "I mean, when Narcissa Malfoy wanted to talk with you about your kids becoming engaged before they could even dress themselves?"

"Good Form required that I accept her invitation," said Dori shrugging. "Fortunately, I did not have to go to Malfoy Manor; Narcissa came to our home as traditionally it is the family with the son who visits the family of the daughter. In the end, Narcissa withdrew her offer. Let us just say that when she came calling, we put on quite a show for her – and as with you, we weren't even trying to deliberately provoke her."

"What Dori is trying to say so politely," said Xeno. "Is that we convinced her that while we may be pureblooded that we were most definitely undesirable; given our belief that purebloods are no better or worse than half-bloods, muggle-borns and even muggles."

More seriously, Ren added, "Lucius also admonished me to keep Jenny away from Corey; flat-out saying that our family's bloodlines were "diluted enough." Ren shrugged, giving his wife an apologetic look.

"It doesn't surprise me that they would say something like that," said Aggie. "I saw the way that the Malfoys - especially Narcissa, looked at Corey when the kids were playing earlier today. She also gave Katie Dorsey the same look. Like they had absolutely no right to be where they were, playing with their friends . . . ."

"Well, actually, that is precisely what they believe," said Dori. "You heard what Lucius said during his "presentation." The Malfoys are convinced that the wizards and witches in our world can trace their ancestry back to magic users who originally came from the Enchanted Realms."

"Wait, what?" said Aggie. "Are you telling me that the Malfoys _actually_ believe that they come from the same place as the Incursion?"

"Quite so, Aggie," said Xeno. He removed a pamphlet from his robes and handed it to Ren, who perused it, raising his eyebrows as he silently read various portions. "This explains most of it. I would have handed that pamphlet to you, Aggie. But it is enchanted to be readable only if you are a wizard or a witch. In your hands, it would look like a political tract for some cause or the other."

"I've never heard of this bunch before, Xeno," said Ren. "The Wizarding Identity Thesis. This must be a fairly new group. I mean, I know about the Order of Trismegistos, The Magical Sons of the Confederacy and the Brotherhood of the Shadowed Path, and such. But not these dudes."

Xeno shook his head. "The Wizarding Identity Thesis is not an organized group _per se_, Ren. Rather, it is an _ideology_ that many purebloods subscribe to and has been gaining a lot of support, lately. I must confess that I, myself, used to accept it and in many ways, I still do. But I cannot in all good conscience support it wholeheartedly anymore, now that it has been taken up – taken over, actually, by those with a supremacist agenda."

"What is it, then?" said Aggie.

Xeno continued, "The Wizarding Identity Thesis, or WIT for short, posits that the world that we live in has no natural, indigenous magic, and that all magic users in our world are really the descendants of wizards and witches who originally came over from the Enchanted Realms."

Ren said, "So when Lucius Malfoy claimed that Morgana Le Fey was his ancestor, he really wasn't just talkin' trash . . . ." It was a statement; not a question.

"Sadly, yes," said Xeno nodding. "It would seem that the Malfoy family accepts the Wizarding Identity Thesis without reservation. And I believe that this is why they are here in The States. And that's why we originally came here, too, to try and find out what they are up to.

"It was only fortuitously that Dori and I found ourselves here when the Incursion came through and we were on-hand to report on that event, too. But we actually came to your country several days prior to the Incursion to follow-up on an important lead in our investigation of the followers of the WIT ideology. Furthermore, the Malfoys also came to The States a day before the Incursion, giving lie to the Malfoy's claim to have come in _response_ to the crisis."

"Then why are they really here, Xeno?" said Aggie.

"I believe that they are here to find a way into the Enchanted Realms," said Xeno.

"Then they are wasting their time," said Ren flatly. "I may not have had any formal Wizarding Education, Xeno, but even I know that to travel to the Enchanted Realms requires some special talisman or totem; a magic bean, for example, or the services of a "portal-jumper" with a magic hat. And from what I hear, those items are even more elusive than the Deathly Hallows are." Ren nodded to the pin on Xeno's robes; a triangle with a circle inside bisected by a vertical line.

"The Deathly Hallows?" said Aggie. "You mean like from those stories that you read to Jenny from Beedle the Bard's book?" Aggie had never read Jenny from the storybook in question as it, like the WIT pamphlet, had been enchanted to not be readable by muggles. "So The Deathly Hallows are real?"

"They are," said Xeno flatly.

"If you say so," said Ren with a shrug. "My grandma also _says_ that the Hallows are real; at least she did when she read those stories to me when I was Jenny's age. She even claims that we are descended from the Peverell family. But the fact that the Peverell family was real doesn't mean that the Hallows are . . . ."

"This is a debate for another time," said Xeno, shaking his head. "My concern for now is whether or not the Malfoys have managed to locate a way to the Enchanted Realms. Now, while I believe that Ren is correct when he says that the Malfoys will not be able to locate a magic bean or a Portal-Jumper's hat, I fear that he may have found another way, and in a most unexpected place; at least, as far as the Wizarding World is concerned."

"What do you mean?" said Ren.

"I believe that the Malfoy family is so _desperate_ to find a way into the Enchanted Realms that they are actually associating with _muggles_ to further their aims."

"What kind of muggles would be able to help him find a way to the Enchanted Realms?" said Aggie.

"Scientists," said Xeno. "Specifically, they are interested in Theoretical and Experimental Physicists who are researching inter-dimensional travel. According to my sources, Lucius' father, Abraxas Malfoy, has been surreptitiously funding a project through various proxies to make a portal to the Enchanted Realms by using muggle science. That, I believe, is the original reason for Lucius and Narcissa coming here to The States; to check up on the progress of that effort. But the arrival of the Incursion may have thrown a spanner into their original plans; though sadly, more for the better than for the worse as far as the Malfoys are concerned.

"I believe that now their task has been expanded to learn as much as possible about the Incursion. I believe that the Malfoys and those whose interests they represent will try to make contact with whoever is behind the concealment charms in Maine. And if they are successful – or even if they are not successful, they will most certainly alert whoever is responsible for the Incursion that magic exists in our world and that we know that they are here. And I think that you will agree that this must not be allowed to happen."

"Why?" said Aggie. "What do you think will happen if they do make contact with whoever came through?"

Xeno sighed. "You heard Lucius' speech, Aggie. I believe that the Malfoys will attempt to enlist the support of whoever came through in their mad scheme to establish Wizarding Superiority in our world. _Pureblood_ Wizarding Superiority. The Malfoy's idea of Heaven on Earth.

"It would be a world where your children, Jenny and Ricky, would be second-class citizens because they have a muggle mother. It would be a world where Healer Rachel Martindale would be considered a criminal for marrying a muggle and adopting his son as her own. That's the world that they want. And they apparently think that whoever came over from the Enchanted Realms in Maine will help them achieve their mad aims."

Ren nodded, and said, "So Lucius Malfoy would really _collaborate_ with the Invaders instead of joining with everyone else to fighting them off if they are hostile." It was another statement, not a question.

"Why, that little Benedict Arno -," said Aggie stopping short as her face turned red with embarrassment. "Ah, sorry . . . ."

"You have nothing to apologise for," said Dori evenly. "I think that you will find that Mr. Arnold has very few fans back in the UK. Though we may have been on opposite sides in 1776, you may rest assured that _nobody_ likes a traitor; even if they are ostensibly on one's own side."

"Let me get more to the point, Ren," said Xeno. "If we are to find out whatever it is that the Malfoys have in mind, we are going to need help. Specifically, we will need help from people who know the local culture and can help us get around. For example, neither Dori nor I know how to drive a car, much less drive one on the wrong side of the road. And we shall require advice on how to dress so as to not attract too much attention."

Ren silently canvassed Aggie, who nodded. Then Ren said to the Lovegoods, "We'd like to help. But Maine is off-limits to all wizards and witches until further notice."

"What we need to investigate is not in Maine, Ren," said Xeno. The English wizard removed another pamphlet from his robes, this time handing it to Aggie.

"Department of Physics at Washington University in St. Louis," said Aggie, reading the front of the pamphlet. "Is this where the scientists work that the Malfoys are using?"

Xeno nodded, and said, "Ren, Aggie, I cannot even begin to imagine the hardship and disruption to your lives that the Incursion must have caused for your family, and please believe me when I say that we would not ask this of you if it were not important.

"Since it is your family's intention to relocate to St. Louis, we are wondering if it would be possible for us to stay with you for a few days so we may follow-up on our lead. Naturally, we shall be paying our own way to impose on you as little as possible."

As if anticipating Aggie's next question, Dori said, "We have already attempted to alert your country's Federal Bureau of Sorcery, but they have informed us that they do not have enough agents available to follow every "dubious lead."

Xeno added, "They won't even send any agents to Boston to investigate the minor incursion that came just before the big one by only a few moments, saying that it was probably not related to what happened in Maine."

"Well," said Ren thoughtfully. He looked over at Aggie, who nodded, and said, "You know, this _might_ just work out for both of our families . . . ."

Aggie nodded and explained, "I am planning to go back to Collinsport with some other muggle spouses and in-laws shortly after we get to our new home in Missouri. We're going there to properly pack the stuff that we had to leave behind when we evacuated, like our family records and personal things that are irreplaceable. A big chunk of our lives are still in Maine.

"But I was worried about leaving Ren alone with a toddler, especially since he will need to enroll Jenny in her new school and start work at his new job a few days after we move in. At first, I was planning to take Ricky with me – the restriction only applies to wizards and witches over five. But if you will be staying with us for a few days . . . ."

Dori smiled and said, "It would be my pleasure to look after little Ricky while you are away, Aggie. Besides, this will leave our husbands free to follow up on our lead at Washington University."

Ren smiled. "Works for us. I know that Jenny will be thrilled. Especially when she hears that we will be taking some action against the Malfoys . . . ." This brought a smile to everyone's faces as they bade each other goodnight and went to their rooms for some much needed sleep.


	10. A New Home

**Chapter 10: A New Home**

It had taken the Jordan family almost a day and a half to drive the full 1,200 miles on I-90 West from Boston, Massachusetts, to University City, Missouri. Jenny and her family stopped only a few times for gas, food, and an overnight stay at a motel in Indianapolis, Indiana, that had been recommended by the Relocation Committee. The owner was a kind, elderly witch who had rented rooms to a lot of displaced families from Maine who were on their way to their new homes. She had given the Jordans a special deal on their room, and treated them to a fried chicken dinner. She even brought in a cake when she heard that Jenny just had a birthday. She couldn't be friendlier. Of course, she _did_ have a million questions about what had happened in Maine – everyone in their world did. And the Jordans answered them the best that they could. In the morning, she had a wonderful breakfast ready for them. After more conversation, the Jordans thanked her and continued on their way to their new home.

The Jordan's new home in University City, Missouri, was a two-story brownstone that was only a few blocks away from Stonewall Elementary, where Jenny (and later, Ricky,) would go to school, and where Aggie hoped to find work as a teacher when Ricky was old enough for the Latchkey Program. When the Jordan family first arrived, they did not immediately go inside their new house. Instead, they drove around the block a few times to check out their new neighborhood.

It was a neighborhood of similar brownstones that were built in the early 1920's. There were few driveways, so most of the residents parked their cars on the tree-lined streets. Ren sighed. He did not want to think about tree sap dripping on their pristine cars (and using magic to shield them was out of the question as it might arouse suspicion.) But he had to admit that when springtime came, the neighborhood would be nothing less than beautiful. Even now, with few leaves on the trees (most of them had been raked by the residents into piles by the curbs, awaiting pickup,) the neighborhood looked post-card picturesque.

Aggie smiled at Ren. "Well, it's not Collinsport. But I think that we could come to like it here."

As her parents looked the neighborhood over, checking out the local stores and restaurants, Jenny looked for signs of kids her own age: bicycles, toys on the lawns, swing sets and tree houses in back yards. She saw plenty of these. But as it was late in the morning, most of the kids her age were probably in class. When Jenny commented on this, her father suggested that they drive over to have a look at her new school.

Stonewall Elementary School was a large but friendly looking brick structure next to two other, similar buildings that had playfields equipped with football fields and bleachers instead of jungle-gym equipment. One was the Junior High School, where Jenny would go in a little under two years from now if formal Wizarding Education could not be arranged. The other building, set directly across the street from Stonewall, was the High School.

Ironically, Jenny would see the inside of the High School long before she saw the inside of the Junior High. Stonewall Elementary held a lot of its events in the gymnasium of the High School, which was far larger than the one in the Stonewall building. Also, every Thursday, the kids in Fifth and Sixth Grade had Swimming Classes for Gym at the High School's indoor pool – something that Jenny was anxiously looking forward to. It wasn't exactly the Community Center back home in Maine, (much less the beach,) but it was better than nothing.

The Jordans then returned to their new home, parked and went inside. As they did, they brought their luggage with them. Even with the extra items of clothing that they got at the DWC, it only took them one trip. It wasn't much, but with Aggie going back to Collinsport tomorrow morning, it would be enough to last them until she got back with more of their belongings from their old home.

As Ren and Aggie, who was leading little Ricky by his hand, took in the ground floor of the empty house, Jenny ran upstairs to check out her new room. When she got there, she was not too disappointed; especially when she looked out back from her window and saw that the previous owners had left behind a swing set and a toolshed that would make a totally awesome clubhouse.

Jenny sighed at the last thought. She _was_ getting a little old for clubhouses. It would depend on what the local kids thought when they came over. Of course, Jenny would have to meet them first, and that would be a definite priority when she went to her new school tomorrow morning. On the plus side, the backyard was fenced in, and Jenny wondered if she could persuade her parents to let her get a dog after they settled in. Jenny had always wanted a beagle.

When Jenny got back downstairs, she saw that her parents and little brother had been joined by an older couple. They were a wizard and a witch who looked to be in their 60's, but given that wizards and witches aged slower and lived a bit longer than muggles, Jenny knew that they could be quite a bit older. They noticed her when she was halfway down the stairs and the witch commented, "And this must be Jenny!"

Jenny smiled and made a slight curtsy. "Yes Ma'am."

The wizard said, "Well, come on down and let's have a good look at you."

When Jenny joined her parents and the new couple, the wizard continued. "My name is Oliver. Oliver Morris. And this lovely young lady is my wife of almost 60 years, Mrs. Mona Morris.

Jenny turned to the older witch and said, "We've got something in common. We both have alliterative names! They're the best, don't you think?"

"That we do, young lady," said the witch smiling. "And that they are. Now, while I was not born with mine, I consider it to be the finest wedding present that a witch may receive from her husband!" The adults all laughed at Mona's remark.

"Please think of us as the local WWW," said Oliver. "That's Wizard's Welcome Wagon. We are volunteers with the Relocation Committee and it is both our duty and our pleasure to help you settle in to your new surroundings. Now, I think that Mona has brought everything that you will need in the immediate future in her purse – Undetectable Extension Charms are so useful in situations like this!

"But for now, I can imagine that the four of you must be starving! So my better half and I have brought you something to eat!" Oliver took out his wand, performed a swish and flick over his wife's purse, and motioned for everyone to follow him into the dining room where he had conjured a table, six chairs (one of them with a booster seat for Ricky,) and place settings for everyone.

"My turn," said Mona. She gave her ear a tug and a dinner of pizza, salad, and other side dishes appeared. The Jordans and the Morrises sat down and offered a simple prayer of thanks; both for the food and that they were safe and together, and then the meal was served.

Jenny looked skeptically at the appearance of the local pizza. Normally, Jenny's family ate at the House of Pizza in Collinsport, which served Greek-style pizza baked in an oiled pan with plenty of oregano in the sauce. But this pizza was so thin, you could almost see through it, and the cheese had a pleasant, smoky aroma. She took one bite, and was instantly hooked. "This cheese is the best!"

Mona nodded. "It's called "provel cheese," Jenny. It is a popular, local variety. Now try the toasted ravioli. I think that you will like it, too," said Mona.

"_Toasted_ ravioli?" said Jenny. But after the first bite, she smiled and nodded enthusiastically. She wondered what other, local delicacies awaited her sampling. And a generous helping of gooey butter cake for dessert partially satisfied her curiosity.

"So, what are your immediate plans, Ren?" said Oliver.

"Well, Aggie is going to Maine tomorrow to get our irreplaceable stuff. Our household records, family heirlooms, my Avanti . . . ."

"You have an Avanti?" said Mona. "I drive a President Club Sedan."

"What year?" asked Ren, eyes wide.

"1940," said Mona. "My Oliver has a 1932 Dictator Coupe."

"How could they name it _that_?" said Aggie incredulously. "Especially in the 1930's?"

"The name was intended to mean that this car "Dictated the Standard" of cars in its class," said Oliver. "It was named just _before_ the rise of Fascism. But then came the Second World War, and . . . ."

"Unfortunate choice of names," agreed Ren. "Kind of like someone naming a Racing Broom "The Dark Lord." Say, wasn't there a song about the '32 Dictator, Oliver?"

"Ronny and the Daytonas!" said Oliver with a big grin. "Antique '32 Studebaker Dictator Coupe." It was on the same album as their more famous hit, "G.T.O."

"Too bad there was never a song about the Avanti," mused Ren. "But it is nice to meet a fellow Studebaker enthusiast." After a little more car talk, the conversation got down to real business.

"But we digress," said Oliver. "Now, about those immediate plans?"

"Well, I don't start my new job until next Friday," said Ren. Ren Jordan had worked at the local lumberyard in Collinsport ever since he was 16. But on the weekends, he made and repaired racing brooms. The Relocation Committee was able to find him a similar job at a nearby hardware store. But as far as his work on racing brooms was concerned . . . .

"You might find that it is a little difficult to flight test a broom around these parts, Ren; much less go for an extended, leisurely cruise," said Oliver. Ren nodded sadly. Unlike Collinsport, most urban areas in the country, including U-City, Missouri, are listed as a "No-Fly" zone by the FBS.

"And I am afraid that it gets worse," said Mona. "Since you do not have a garage, you will not be able to transfigure water into gasoline without the risk of being seen by your neighbors."

"That could easily triple what we pay for gas," said Aggie neutrally. True, water could be transfigured into gasoline, but that did not mean that it could be done for free. Since wizards and witches used the local roads where they lived, the FBS required all magic users to keep a log book of how many gallons of water became gallons of gasoline, and charged so much per gallon to cover the taxes that muggles regularly paid at the pump. These funds were then funneled to the appropriate muggle agencies.

Ren nodded. What was that old muggle saying? There ain't no such thing as a free lunch? Of course, wizards and witches had a similar saying that went so far back into antiquity that nobody knew its origin: Magic _always_ comes with a price.

Though he probably already knew what Oliver and Mona would say, Ren commented, "At least I can still cast a temperature holding spell on our home so we won't have to use our furnace or air conditioner too much."

Oliver shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Ren. Some sharp-eyed muggle neighbor might just notice that your home is cool inside in summer but that you're A/C does not come on as often as it should. Or that your home is warm in winter, but that no steam is rising from your roof vent."

Both Ren and Aggie nodded. Jenny saw the looks on her parents' face and decided to postpone asking for a beagle indefinitely.

"You will have to be very careful, indeed, Ren," said Mona. She then turned to Jenny. "And that goes for you as well, young lady."

Jenny knew what was coming next. Some of her friends from school who had lived in other parts of the country before moving to Collinsport told Jenny about getting "THE TALK." And Jenny realized that she was about to get it, herself. Silently, Jenny nodded, keeping her attention on Mona Morris. "Yes, Ma'am?"

"Jennifer, you are at the age when your powers are beginning to manifest when you are nervous, scared, or disoriented. And right about now, I can imagine that you are feeling these emotions, and more; especially given everything that has happened to you and your family and friends over the past few weeks.

"Because of this, you will need to guard yourself constantly! Stonewall Elementary is not Collinsport Elementary, where some of your classmates and even some of the _teachers _were wizards and witches. You will be the ONLY person in your new school with the ability to do magic. All of your new classmates and teachers will be muggles. If you are not careful and do not keep yourself under control, they may see you do magic."

Oliver added, "Or they may see strange things happen while you are around and put two-and-two together. You just might find yourself in trouble with the FBS, young lady. And your parents may find themselves facing a _very_ steep fine, depending on how serious your violation of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy and the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery is determined to be."

Mona took it from there. Jenny felt that she was being tag-teemed. "It could even be worse. If you use reflexive magic, you could hurt someone in your school. Maybe even kill someone. It is rare, but it has been known to happen in the past. Your parents may want to consider enrolling you in a martial arts class of some kind. Karate, maybe. Or Jujitsu. In addition to these lessons teaching you better self-control, you will learn the option of protecting yourself _physically _instead of with magic."

"It's just like we told our son when he was growing up and going to an all-muggle school." Added Oliver. "If there is unavoidable conflict with a classmate, it is important to use your _fists_; not your words!"

"B-but how will I make new _friends_?" said Jenny, the implications of going to an all-muggle school were beginning to sink in, and Jenny did not like them. So much for the clubhouse idea.

"It might be best if you don't," said Mona softly. "Oh, you can and should be _friendly_ with your classmates; I'm not saying that you shouldn't do that. But what I am saying that it might be risky to have someone from school come over for a visit. It only increases the chance that someone might see or hear something that maybe they shouldn't . . . ."

"But it will only be for another year, or so," said Oliver. "You'll be turning _eleven_ before you even know it. Be getting your first wand then, too. Then you will probably go to school at Randolph Carter, where you won't have to worry about keeping secrets and you can make lots of new friends. Probably even reconnect with some of your old friends from Collinsport who will be going there as well."

"Actually," said Ren. "We kind of want Jenny to go to Hogwarts in Scotland. Randolph Carter is very close to the Incursion in Maine. We don't feel comfortable about her going there, so close to whatever it is that came through."

"Well, I went to Hogwarts," said Oliver nodding. "I was in Ravenclaw House. Hogwarts is a very good school. But there is nothing to worry about with Randolph Carter. The student there could not be any safer. The FBS has Aurors and even a Whitelighter stationed there to protect the students ever since the Incursion hit. Your daughter will probably be safer in the Miskatonic Valley than she will be here west of the Mississippi." _And she won't be subjected to any taunts by the other students; especially the ones in Slytherin, because she has a muggle mother, like I was_, thought Oliver silently.

"I'm sure that it is safe at Randolph Carter, but we are still hoping to send Jenny to Hogwarts," persisted Ren. "Beauxbatons isn't an option since Jenny doesn't speak French. I would consider it a very big, personal favor if you could speak with the Admissions Department at Hogwarts as an Alumnus and ask -"

"I'll be alright at Randolph Carter, dad," insisted Jenny. "And I'm not afraid of anything that came over from the Enchanted Realms! If they start anything, _we'll_ be the ones to finish it! All of us! Wizards, Mutants and Muggles! We'll stand together and kick their enchanted –"

"Jennifer . . . ," cautioned Aggie.

"Sorry, mom," said Jenny. "But I want to be with kids that I don't have to keep any secrets from! I don't even care if they are all wizards. Just so long as they already know about our world and I can just be . . . just be _myself_ and not have to worry!

"I wish the same thing for you, Jenny," said Ren softly. "And that kind of environment describes Hogwarts as well as Randolph Carter." _And at Hogwarts, you will have an entire _planet's core_ between you and the Incursion_, thought Ren to himself. "But until then, you will need to go to school at Stonewall Elementary starting tomorrow."

"Things are going to be a little hectic for the next week or so, honey," said Aggie. "But by then all of our business in Collinsport will be over and we can get settled in."

"You mean our _lives_ in Collinsport, don't you, mom? Not our "business," said Jenny sadly.

"We'll begin a new life here in University City, sweetheart," said Aggie gently. "And besides, the Lovegoods will be coming over to stay with us for a few days, soon. I know you will like that."

"The Lovegoods?" said Oliver. "Xenophilius Lovegood? I know the name. He was a Ravenclaw as well, but he came way after I went to Hogwarts. He and his wife publish _The Quibbler_."

"Yes, that's them," said Aggie. "We met them at the DWC while they were covering the Incursion. Do you know them?"

"Only by reputation," said Mona giggling. "We get _The Quibbler_ delivered. They have an interesting way of . . . seeing things . . . ."

"They seem alright," said Aggie.

"Oh, they are," said Mona. She then turned to Jenny and added, "Just don't let them talk you into believing in the existence of weird creatures like crumple horned snorkacks or nargles, or whatever it is they say is hiding in the shadows _this_ week!" Both Mona and Oliver chuckled over that.

Jenny smiled. "Well, it would be nice to see Luna again. She is so cute!"

Aggie said, "Xeno and Dori told us that they have some business to attend to here in the US. And they will be helping Ren watch Jenny and Ricky while I am in Maine for the next few days."

"And I'll get to be Xeno's driver while Jenny is at school and Dori watches Luna and Ricky," said Ren nodding. And he was actually looking forward to it. "Would you believe that Xeno and Dori have only ridden in a car a few times before, and _never_ in a classic Stude?"

"Not many traditional, pure blooded wizards and witches in the UK have ridden in one, Ren," said Oliver shrugging. "An acquaintance of mine who lives in the UK actually bought a car; an old Ford Anglia, I think. But I don't know if he's ever got it to run, much less driven it."

When dinner was finished, the Morrises opened their bag of Welcoming Gifts. Jenny had heard of an Undetectable Extension Charm before from her Aunt Maisie, but had never actually seen one in action. It was fairly advanced magic and Jenny knew pretty much what to expect. But she was nonetheless amazed to see beds, tables and chairs as well as boxes of clothes and towels emerging from Mrs. Morris' tiny little purse. No televisions, though; all that powerful magic would fry the electronics.

Yet another dip into Mrs. Morris' purse brought out bags of groceries, toiletries and cleaning supplies. Jenny helped her parents and the Morrises stock the pantries and the refrigerator and unpack the clothes. True, magic could have been used for this. But staying active helped Jenny take her mind off of everything that had happened to them over the past few weeks, even if it was only for a few hours. When the unpacking was finished, the Morrises said goodbye, and left for the evening, apparating from the Jordan's living room with a dainty chiming sound.

"Can you do that too, dad?" said Jenny.

Ren shrugged. "I've had some lessons, but I'm not very good at apparating or orbing. Besides, I'm more of a broomstick man, myself. Broomsticks and Studebakers are my thing. I suppose that in a real emergency I can apparate. But better have some dittany handy at the other end, because I'm sure to have splinched when I get there!

"But there will be plenty of time for magic later, Jenny. Right now, you need to get cleaned up and get yourself to bed. You have a big day tomorrow, young lady. We all do."

"Yes, dad," said Jenny with a yawn.

Then Ren smiled. "And after your first day at your new school, I have a surprise planned for you. A surprise that I know you will like."

"What is it, daddy?"

"Well, if I told you, then it wouldn't be much of a surprise, would it?" Ren put his hands on his daughter's shoulders. "But to find out, you have to get through your first day of school."

After saying goodnight to her mom and dad and little brother, Jenny got herself cleaned up and went upstairs to bed, but she was way too excited to fall asleep. Jenny was anxious to begin her first day at her new school, choosing to think of it as an adventure into the unknown.

But a few blocks away from Jenny's new home, a boy who had lost far more than Jenny could ever imagine losing, also went to bed. As with Jenny, sleep eluded him; though in the boy's case, this was more out of anxiety than excitement. The boy knew that his uncle was looking in on him from the doorway, so he remained still in his bed until he could sense that his uncle had left to go back downstairs to watch a little TV before going to bed, himself. For almost two weeks ever since that evil lady Regina took his father from him, Owen Flynn cried himself to sleep. He loved his uncle, but he missed his parents dearly.

Owen's mother had died six months ago. He would not see her again until they were reunited in Heaven. His father was still alive in the hidden town of Storybrooke back in Maine; the town that everyone he spoke with said did not exist. But it _did_ exist. Owen and his father were _there_. And Owen's father was _still_ there, _alive_. He _had_ to be. Owen had made a sacred vow that he would _never_ stop looking for his dad; even if nobody else would help him. A few hours later, Owen fell asleep on his tear-soaked pillow as the fear of the impending day at Stonewall Elementary School began to loom larger than any nightmares that he knew were to come.

Owen never knew what form the nightmares of Storybrooke and Regina taking his father would be like when they visited him in his sleep. But his fears of facing yet another day at Stonewall Elementary and his "classmates" were all too well known.


	11. Private Investigations

**Chapter 11: Private Investigations**

Tabitha Stephens pulled her yellow, '69 Camaro Convertible into the parking lot of the children's group home in Boston and killed the engine. It was the first car that was actually in her name; a gift from her Uncle Arthur as a Hogwarts graduation present. For several minutes, the young witch sat in her car, thinking. Before doing anything that could not be undone, Tabitha considered that maybe her superiors were right and that the small, minor incursions from the Enchanted Realms that had been detected just before The Big One hit were unrelated to each other. But Tabitha could not shake the nagging feeling that this was not the case.

It was Tabitha's turn to make the daily supply run for the MADS station where she had been assigned to keep tabs on the Incursion. It was also her day to cook the dinner when she returned, and Tabitha knew that this little "side-trip" could potentially get her into a lot of trouble. But according to the Boston Police Department, this children's group home is where the two children who had been found on the night of the Incursion had been placed.

The young FBS Trainee checked her ID badge. To a wizard or a witch, it would identify her as a (Trainee) Agent of the United States Federal Bureau of Sorcery. To a muggle, it would appear to be credentials for whatever agency she claimed to be from. The only problem now is what agency should she say she was with? Social Services? The Health Department? The Boston Police Department? Tabitha tried several possibilities out loud for size.

"Hello, my name is Tabitha Stephens, and I am with the Massachusetts Department of Child Welfare . . . ."

"Good morning. I am Tabitha Stephens. And I am with the Health Department . . . ."

"Hi. My name is Tabitha Stephens, and I have been sent by the Boston Police Department to check in on . . . ."

A disembodied voice coming from everywhere and nowhere said, "Personally, I'd go with the first. Of the three you just tried, it seems the less threatening . . . ." Tabitha sighed when she realized that her grandmother Endora had just appeared in the passenger's seat next to her. Oddly, her normally flamboyant grandmother was dressed relatively conservative by muggle standards. Instinctively, Tabitha quickly looked around to make sure that nobody had seen this happen. Endora continued. "As they say, you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar . . . ."

"Grandma! What are you doing here?"

"Pish-tosh, Tabitha," said Endora dismissively. "Since when does a grandmother need a reason to visit her granddaughter?"

"This is a busy parking lot and we're in a convertible," said Tabitha desperately. "You could have been seen! I would have had to write you up! I would have had to write us _both_ up!"

"Oh, come now, Tabitha," said Endora. "I made sure that nobody who shouldn't have seen me was around before I popped-in. I've been doing things like this for a very long time. Give me some credit, at least. Really, darling, you are much too paranoid!"

Tabitha sighed. "Yeah? Well, growing up next door to Gladys Kravitz will do that to a witch!"

"So what? Nothing ever came of Glycerin's calls to the mortal agencies about the so-called "strange goings on" at your home. You would think by now that that silly mortal would grow tired of harassing you, your mother, your brother and even Derwood . . . ."

Tabitha signed wearily. "Daddy's name is _Darrin_, Grandma! And how many times do I have to tell you, the preferred term is "muggle;" not "mortal!" This isn't the 12th Century, you know! Now, if you don't mind, I have something that I need to do!"

"Mind if I tag along, now that I am here?"

"I wish that you wouldn't, grandma," said Tabitha. "I'm following-up on some information that I have about the Incursion –"

"Oh, _that_," said Endora shaking her head. "Everybody in our world has been working themselves up into a tizzy over what happened a few weeks ago in Maine, blowing everything up all out of proportion! You know, if I were to just pop-in and take a little look around –"

"_NO_, GRANDMA!" said Tabitha. "Maine is off-limits to our kind until further notice! We don't want whoever they are to know that we know they are here!"

"That's exactly what Stephen told me the other day over tea," said Endora thoughtfully. "He's only been the Sorcerer Supreme for a little while after practicing magic for only a few decades and he thinks that he knows everything! While I, on the other hand . . . ."

"Look, grandma, can we talk about this, later? I don't have a lot of time and I want to check these children out for myself! The police report says that they are a seven year old boy and a newborn baby girl. This would correspond with the weight of what came through just before The Big One did. At the very least, I want to rule them out!"

"Well, then," said Endora. If you insist on playing Nancy Drew, then I will play along."

"No, grandma, you will go back home immediately and let me do my job!"

Endora raised an eyebrow. "But that's just it; you are not doing your _job_, now, are you?"

"Well, not officially, but –"

"But nothing, Tabitha," said Endora. "You were sent out to get groceries, not follow-up on a hunch. But surely nobody could say anything against you if you happened to have met your grandmother and spoke with her for a few moments, now could they?"

"But –"

"Besides," continued Endora with a conspiratorial tone. "You are awfully young looking to command much authority. But, if you were to be accompanied by an older person from the agency that you claim to represent . . . ."

Tabitha thought for a moment, and then said, "Alright, grandma. But please let me do most of the talking."

"Of course," said Endora. "I'm only here to supervise my "trainee," after all . . . ."

The two witches entered the group home and asked about the children who had been found by the police at a small diner outside of Boston the night of October 22nd. The receptionist directed them to the group home's clinic. When they got there, a commotion was in progress. Tabitha saw a small boy protectively holding a crying, newborn baby girl. Several nurses were there, too. One of them was holding a hypodermic syringe. But the boy continued to protest and did everything that he could to keep the nurses away from him and the baby in his arms.

Tabitha said, "What's going on, here?

"I'm trying to give the baby girl a vaccination, but the boy won't let me! Who are you two?"

"My name is Tabitha Stephens. "I'm with . . . Children's Services. I'm new, and this is Mrs. Endora, my supervisor. She's evaluating my performance. We're here to follow-up on the children who were found a few weeks ago at a small diner outside of Boston. Are these the two children?"

"Yes, they are," said the frustrated nurse. "Maybe you can help us give the girl her shots?"

"I might be able to do that," said Tabitha, not taking her eyes off of the frightened boy. "But please let me do it my way . . . ." Tabitha took a small step forward towards the children, and then sat down cross-legged on the floor in front of them, about four feet away. "Hello. My name is Tabitha. What's your name, little boy?"

The boy sniffled, and then said, "A-August. My name is August Booth."

"Well, hello, August. And who is this pretty little girl that you are holding? She is so cute! Is she your little sister?"

"N-no, miss," said August. "B-but I'm supposed to protect her!"

"And you are doing a _very_ good job of protecting her, August," said Tabitha softly. "She's such a little darling! Would it be alright if I hold her? Just for a moment. I promise that I will give her back right away, and that I won't let anyone else touch her unless you say so. Would that be alright?"

The boy hesitated. He looked down at the crying baby in his arms, then back to Tabitha. Then he nodded, and handed the baby girl to the young woman. When Tabitha took her, the baby calmed down and stopped crying, making the boy smile. And when he smiled, Tabitha noticed that the boy was pushing a loose tooth with his tongue. This gave Tabitha an idea, and she mentally set the observation aside.

"Hey, there, little baby," cooed Tabitha gently. "You are _such_ a little sweetie, aren't you? You know, I haven't held a newborn baby since I was about the same age as your friend, August! It was my little brother, Adam. He's thirteen now, and _way_ too big to hold, and I miss that." Tabitha looked up to the boy, and said, "So, August, what is this cute little baby's name?"

"E-Emma . . . ," said the boy, who then began jiggling his loose tooth with his fingers. "Her name is Emma. Emma Swan . . . ." Tabitha made a quick twitch of her nose and the tooth popped out into the boy's fingers. The boy examined his tooth for a moment, and then put it in his pocket.

"_Emma_ . . . ," said Tabitha thoughtfully. "That's such a pretty name for a pretty girl!" Tabitha smiled at Emma and blew her a kiss before handing her back to August.

"Now, August," said Tabitha. "You said that someone told you to protect Emma from harm. It might not seem like it, but that is what these ladies are trying to help you do, right now."

"By sticking her with a _needle_?" said August dubiously.

"Well, August, it is a very _special_ needle," said Tabitha. "Or, rather, the liquid in the little plastic part is what makes it special. You see, this liquid will protect Emma from some very nasty diseases, like measles and mumps. You're about seven years old. Surely you've gotten vaccinations yourself, August?"

The boy shook his head.

"_Never . . ._ ?" said Tabitha. "Well, August, I have had _lots_ of vaccinations to keep from getting sick, and believe me, they work! But some of these vaccinations were not around when I was your age. When I was a little younger than you, I actually _had_ the mumps, and believe me, I was one very unhappy six-year-old girl at that time.

"But my little brother Adam _never _had the mumps because the vaccination for it came out a little before he was born, and he _got_ one. So, August, if you let these nurses give Emma a vaccination, then she will _never_ get the mumps, or a lot of other very bad diseases, either. Now, I won't lie to you; an injection does hurt a little; it's kind of like getting pinched. But the hurt does not last long, and when it is done, there are diseases that Emma will never get.

"So, since it is _your_ job to protect little baby Emma, you really need to get her vaccinated. For that matter, I think that it might be a very good idea if you let the nurses vaccinate you, as well. Why don't you get your vaccinations first? That will show you that there is nothing to be afraid of, and it will give me another chance to hold Emma. How about it, August, will you let these ladies help you and baby Emma . . . ?"

The boy considered Tabitha's suggestion for a few moments, and handed Emma to the young witch. August then went over to the very relieved looking nurse, who administered the vaccination. August winced but did not cry. Then it was baby Emma's turn. Tabitha held her as the nurse gave Emma her vaccination as August looked on. Predictably, she did cry, but Tabitha was able to soothe Emma fairly quickly, before handing her back to August.

"I see that you have just lost a baby tooth, August," said Tabitha. "Have you ever heard of the Tooth Fairy?"

"Yes, I've met her a few times," said August. "She's good friends with the Blue Fairy."

Tabitha smiled. "Well, she's kind of busy, right now. But she authorized me to collect teeth on her behalf." Tabitha reached into her purse, and pulled out a Kennedy half-dollar coin. "I'll give you this for your baby tooth, August, and I will see that the Tooth Fairy gets it."

The boy handed the tooth to Tabitha who put it in her purse, then gave him the coin. He studied the coin for a moment, and then said, "Is this man your king?"

"He was our _leader_ a long time ago, August," said Tabitha. "But we do not have a king in this land. Our leaders are elected. Do you have kings where you came from?" The boy nodded.

The nurse said, "He must really be from a far off place. You should see what he was wearing when the police found him."

"May we see?" said Endora, speaking for the first time since she and her granddaughter got to the group home. The nurse nodded and stepped out of the room for a few moments. While she was gone, Endora asked August if she could hold little Emma. Tabitha smiled. Her grandmother was always good with children.

Moments later, the nurse came back into the room with two cardboard boxes. She opened the box labeled "Booth, August," and took out the clothes the boy was wearing when the police found him.

"Hmmm . . . ." Tabitha raised an eyebrow as she examined the boy's original clothes. The entire ensemble looked like Italian Alpine clothes from the previous century. Moreover, Tabitha saw no labels or zippers. And the material looked natural, not synthetic. The entire outfit appeared to be custom-made by hand. Even the shoes looked handmade.

Tabitha whistled softly to herself. This outfit had to cost a bundle. Moreover, a boy August's age would outgrow it in short order. Tabitha turned to August, who was enjoying his post-vaccination lollypop, and said, "This is a very nice suit of clothes, August. Are you and your family members of a Folk Dancing Group?" When August shook his head to indicate "no," Tabitha continued, "Then is your family a member of a Historical Reenactment Group, like, say, The Society for Creative Anachronisms?"

Again, August shook his head. "No, Miss. This is how I always dressed where I used to live. Not like I am dressed, now." The boy indicated his jeans, tee-shirt and sneakers.

"I see . . . ," said Tabitha. She had closed the box marked "August" and opened the box marked "Baby Emma Swan." The box contained a knitted baby blanket with the name "Emma" embroidered on with purple thread.

The nurse said, "We know her name is Emma because of the name on her blanket. But we checked with all the local hospitals and none of them reported a missing newborn baby girl."

But Tabitha barely heard the nurse as she saw a stain on the blanket. It was unmistakably blood. But as Tabitha watched her grandmother change Emma's diaper, she saw no obvious injuries. Surreptitiously, Tabitha removed some of the yarn with the blood stain and put the strands in her purse along with the boy's tooth. Tabitha wanted to ask the boy more, but she knew that her time was running out. And she had one more stop to make before she went shopping . . . .

Then Tabitha thanked the nurses, told August that she would like to see him again in a few days, and she and Endora went back to her car. Once they were inside, Endora said, "There is something _very_ special about that baby girl, Tabitha. I can sense it. I don't know if she is a witch or a mor- _muggle_, but there is definitely _something_ special about her. I think that you are right, and that those children did come from the Enchanted Realms. But how . . . ?"

"I'd settle for why, grandma," said Tabitha. "Even if they were from a wizarding family, there is no way that the boy could have opened a portal and crossed-over to our world on his own. They had to have been _sent_ over by someone . . . .

"I wonder if they were sent over by their parents to escape the Incursion. They came through just outside of the Incursion. Kind of like in the "Superman" comics; the way that Kal-El's parents sent him to our world in a rocket ship before Krypton was destroyed."

"I was thinking more of the story of baby Moses, Tabitha," said Endora thoughtfully. "I was there, you know . . . ."

Tabitha ignored her grandmother's boast and said, "Grandma, can you apparate us and my car to this address?" Tabitha showed her grandmother a card for a place called "Quest Laboratories." I have some things to drop off for them to look at."

"_Can_ I apparate us? Just _watch_ me!" A quick gesture was all that it took. When they arrived in the parking lot, Tabitha asked her grandmother to wait in the car, telling her that she would not be long.

Tabitha was back at her car in less than ten minutes. Another gesture from Endora put the two witches and the Camaro in the parking lot of a food store a few miles from the MADS station where Tabitha was assigned. Tabitha's grandmother insisted on coming into the store with her. "If your supervisor asks, you can tell her that you ran into your grandmother at the store and lost track of time."

"I don't know, grandma," said Tabitha. "Ms. Lockhart is pretty strict."

"That wouldn't be Juliet Lockhart, would it, Tabitha?"

"One and the same. Why, do you know her?"

"Know her?" said Endora with a wide grin. "I use to babysit for her! That is, I used to babysit _her_ as a child. Remember me to her. She simply adored me! Trust me Tabitha; you won't be in any trouble."

When the shopping list was filled and the two witches were back in Tabitha's car, Endora said seriously, "Tabitha, before I leave, there is something that I want to do for you." She passed her hand over her granddaughter's heart and Tabitha winced.

"Ow! That _stings_, grandma! What's it for?"

"To protect you, darling," said Endora solemnly. "From an old magical battle technique that is _still_ very much in vogue in the Enchanted Realms, or so I am given to understand. This will keep any potential opponent from _taking your heart_. I did this for your mother when she was about August's age. I'll be doing the same for Adam and even Dumdum after I get back home. Really, your mother should have done it for you and your brother a long time ago, but as I said, the technique has not been used in our world for thousands of years. It was your little speech to young August about the necessity of keeping up with vaccinations that brought it to mind . . . ."

"Um, thank you, grandma . . . ," said Tabitha, her chest still tingling from her grandmother's protection spell.

Then Endora made a gesture in front of her granddaughter's face, and the young FBS Trainee went into a trance. "Listen to me carefully, darling," said Endora seriously. "I do not know who is behind what has happened in Maine. For now, I'll play along with the "Authorities" and won't go looking for myself unless I am asked to.

"But if you are required to go there and face whatever or whoever it is, then you _will_ heed my advice: If you find yourself facing a wizard who calls himself Rumpelstiltskin or a witch named Cora, then you will call for me and I will come to protect you and anyone else from the FBS who have the misfortune of being with you at the time. In any event, you will _not_ face those two alone! Either one of them can overpower you and kill you without a second thought; my heart-protection spell notwithstanding. Call your grandmother if you find yourself going up against Rumpelstiltskin or Cora. Do NOT be a heroine! Nod if you understand me!"

Tabitha nodded. Endora waved her hand again in front of her face and said, "You're welcome, darling. You know, the Authorities really should reconsider my offer to pop-inside the Incursion to have a little lookie-loo around. It would save everyone so much worry . . . ."

"Grandma, you know we can't let you do that! We can't let them know that we are on to them!"

"Yes, yes," said Endora, rolling her eyes. "What_ever_ . . . . Just promise me that you will be careful."

"I promise, grandma!" said Tabitha as she gave her grandmother a big hug and Endora knew that she meant to keep her promise. Not that Tabitha had any choice in the matter now, but still . . . . After saying goodbye to her granddaughter, Endora disapparated with the sound of a gentile chime.

Tabitha sighed, and drove back to the MADS station, hoping that her supervisor would say nothing about her arriving back nearly an hour later than expected. Fortunately, Special Agent Lockhart did not comment on anything other than the dinner that she was looking forward to eating as she helped Tabitha bring in the groceries. It was Tabitha's turn to cook, and she was preparing spaghetti and meatballs; a favorite of Agent Lockhart.

Tabitha's contact at Quest Laboratories, Dr. Lisa Wilson, was an old friend of hers. Tabitha explained the situation, and Lisa said that she would get her the results within the next two hours. Tabitha began preparing the meal as she kept one eye on the telephone . . . .


	12. Some Answers and More Questions

**Chapter 12: Some Answers and More Questions**

Jenifer Jordan awoke a little before six in the morning. From the sounds coming from downstairs, she knew that her family was also awake, and that they were not alone. Dressing quickly, the young witch sprinted downstairs and into the kitchen where she saw her parents and her little brother sitting at the kitchen table joined by three very familiar faces. Jenny broke into a wide, ten-year-old's grin when she saw who they were. "Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood! When did you and Luna get here?"

"Good morning, Jennifer!" said Xenophilius Lovegood, matching Jenny's grin with one of his own. "Your father picked us up from the Floo-Hearth Terminal a little after midnight."

Pandora Lovegood smiled too, and added, "Good morning, Jenny! I understand that today is your first day at your new school. I hope that you've had a good night's sleep!"

"It would be nice if one of us did," said her father. Ren Jordan took a sip of coffee from his "World's Greatest Dad" mug that Jenny had gotten for him last Fathers' Day. "I barely slept all night. The furnace kept kicking on every ten minutes and ran for thirty at a time." Ren sighed, dreading their first gas bill. "But I'm glad that you're up and dressed, already. We've all got a busy day, today."

Jenny's mom added, "I'm leaving for Collinsport today, Jenny, to get some of our things. I will be driving back in your dad's car and should be back here next Monday night. Your dad's taking me to the airport after we drop you off at school. Then he and Mr. Lovegood will have some business to attend to while Mrs. Lovegood watches Luna and Ricky."

Pandora said, "And to help make things easier for your parents, I've taken the liberty of preparing breakfast!"

Jenny sat down, joining her family and the Lovegoods. The breakfast that Mrs. Lovegood had made for them consisted of a bowl of muesli with skim milk, yogurt with fresh fruit, and wholemeal toast topped with something called Daylesford Organic Christmas Marmalade that came in a glass jar with a glass lid held in place by a lock made from shaped metal rod. Though not her mom's usual bacon, eggs and hash browns, Jenny had to admit that it was very good. She hoped that the Lovegoods brought more of the marmalade; Jenny could not wait to try some on a peanut butter sandwich.

After breakfast, Jenny got cleaned up, and then joined her parents and her little brother for the short drive to Stonewall Elementary. When they got there, the Jordans accompanied Jenny to the office to meet with Principal Burr, and Jenny's new teacher, Miss Sherman. After a quick orientation, Miss Sherman said she would give Jenny a tour of the school before bringing her to her new classroom.

Ren and Aggie gave their daughter a big hug, and then Jenny's father said that he would be there to pick her up when class was dismissed for the day. Jenny's mom assured her that she would see her again after school on Monday when she returned from Collinsport. Then Jenny kissed Ricky goodbye, and said that she would see him later.

"Please be sure to get my favorite earrings," said Jenny. She had gotten them the year before for her birthday from her best friend Karen, when her parents allowed her to get her ears pierced. "They aren't in my jewelry box; I had them set out on my dresser to put on the next day before we had to, well . . . ." Aggie nodded as her daughter's voice trailed off, and promised her daughter that she would put them in her purse first thing when she got to their old home in Collinsport.

Aggie then gave Jenny a few dollars. "This is for your lunches today, tomorrow and Monday. Come Tuesday, you start brown bagging." After another group hug, Ren, Aggie and Ricky left for Lambert Airport.

Miss Sherman smiled at Jenny. "I think that you will like Stonewall Elementary, Jenny. Now let me show you around the school before we go to your new classroom . . . ."

After seeing Aggie off at Lambert Airport, Ren and Ricky returned to their new home in University City where the Lovegoods were waiting for them. Taking Ren's and Aggie's suggestions, Xenophilius Lovegood had dressed in an approximation of local muggle style in trousers, a button-down long-sleeve shirt, a necktie and a jacket. As a final touch, he wore a blank press pass on the jacket pocket that was enchanted to show that he was a reporter for a British Science Journal so Xeno would not have to hide his accent. It was not important which Journal as the pass was also enchanted to keep anyone from scrutinizing it for too long.

Dori Lovegood compared her husband's muggle dress to the clothes worn by Ren Jordan. The American wizard wore jeans and a long-sleeve sweatshirt emblazoned with the words "Collinsport High School Vampires / Varsity Basketball." It was what Ren had been wearing when the Order to Evacuate was issued. When Dori asked about the difference, Ren said that he was "only the driver" that was hired to shuttle the visitor from abroad, and not a reporter, himself.

Then Ren said goodbye to his young son. Though little Ricky seemed to understand that his mother would be coming back home in a few days, he still fussed and cried when his father said that he and Mr. Lovegood had some errands to run and that Mrs. Lovegood would watch him until they returned. Even though Ren assured him that he would be back before lunch, the little boy cried harder, holding on to his father for dear life. But then Dori came to the rescue. She smiled at the young wizard and sang to him, calming him down.

"The grownup men have something important to do, Ricky. Until they come back in a few hours, how about helping me take care of my daughter Luna? Now, why don't you give your father a big hug and kiss and he will be back before you know it!" After getting a hug that nearly cut off his circulation, Ren and Xeno were out the door and on the road.

"Where to first, Xeno?" said Ren as he eased the Studebaker into traffic. But Xeno was distracted by the sights and sounds around him. "Don't tell me that this is your first time in a car, Xeno? Or is it just your first time in a 1953 Studebaker Starlight Coup?"

"Oh, I've been in cars a few times before now, Ren," said Xeno. "Mostly Taxicabs when I had business in London. But it is odd that I am sitting in what would normally be the driver's seat for me and that we are traveling on the opposite side of the road. As for our destination, I think it would be prudent to begin our investigation at the Washington University Department of Physics."

Ren thought as much and nodded, checked his directions again, and eased the car onto Pershing Blvd. Xeno watched Ren as he drove. Then something hit him. "Is your car enchanted to shift gears without you moving the lever on the steering wheel?"

"Oh, no. The transmission is automatic. It shifts on its own. I never learned how to drive stick. It's the same with my Avanti."

The two wizards arrived at Washington University in twenty minutes. It was almost 10:30 am when they arrived, and were directed to the Department of Physics at Compton Hall by a young co-ed who could not help but comment on Xeno's "cute accent" as Ren rolled his eyes.

"According to my notes, we need to speak with a Professor Vernell Roberts," said Xeno. "He's the leader of the team working on the extra-dimensional research project." Ren nodded and followed Xeno as they came to Professor Roberts' office. When they got there, they were surprised to see that not only was the door locked, but that it was sealed by several strips of barricade tape reading "Crime Scene – Do Not Enter."

Before either of them could comment, a young man whose appearance just screamed Graduate Student was walking down the hall. Xeno said, "Excuse me, sir. Might we ask you a few questions?"

The man shrugged, and said, "I guess. But I told your colleagues everything that I knew about Professor Roberts this morning."

"Excuse me?" said Ren. "Who do you think we are?"

"Uh, more detectives . . . ?" said the man.

Xeno said, "No, we are not the police. We are journalists. Or rather, I'm a journalist from the UK, and this is my driver. I was sent here by my Scientific Journal to interview your Professor Roberts; though it would appear that I have come at a most inopportune time. Can you tell me if the Professor is hale and hearty?"

"Hale and . . . ?" said the young man quizzically. "Do you mean is the Professor well? Actually, nobody knows. We have been unable to contact him for the past week. He does not answer his telephone or pager and nobody has seen him at his apartment. I checked a few days ago, and his mail is piling up. And what with that fire last week at the off-campus site that he was working at . . . ."

"Fire . . . ?" Xeno gestured to the locked, sealed door and said, "I take it then that foul-play is suspected?"

"The Professor was working on a very important project," said the young man shrugging. "I guess that the cops aren't ruling anything out. But if you will excuse me, I have to grade some papers for my Professor. Have a nice day." Without waiting for a reply, the young man continued down the hall.

Xeno looked at the sealed door and said, "I think that we may need a locator spell, Ren . . . ."

Ren's eyes widened. "Oh, hey, Xeno, you're not thinking about doing what I think you are about to do . . . ?"

Xeno nodded solemnly. "We absolutely _must_ find Professor Roberts, now. And the only way to do that is to obtain a personal item of his. And his office is full of items that may be used to find him." Before Ren could say anything else, Xenophilius Lovegood glanced down the hallway in both directions, removed his wand and said, "Alohomora." At Xeno's command, the door unlocked and the Crime Scene Tape moved aside. Without any further hesitation, Xeno stepped into the Professor's office with Ren closely behind him.

"Have you blown a gasket, Xeno?" hissed Ren. The American wizard brushed his hair back with his hand and the door resealed behind them. "Do you have _any_ idea what the FBS does to wizards who use magic to commit crimes? If we get caught –"

"If . . . ." Allowed Xeno nodding grimly. "But I am more worried about what might happen if we don't locate the missing Professor before whoever he may be trying to avoid finds him first."

"Fine," said Ren. "But just so you know, we could both end up doing time at Miskatonic Penitentiary. And from what I hear, it would make your Azkaban look like Disneyland by comparison!"

Xeno shook his head. "We have to do this, Ren. I believe that your muggle authorities will be looking in the wrong places for the wrong things. And your FBS has its hands full with the Incursion, and are spread very thin as a result. We need to speak with Professor Roberts. That is if the Malfoys or their proxies have not found him first . . . ."

Xeno studied the Professor's desk. It was cluttered in a sort of organised disoranisation that one would expect of a muggle science boffin. There were so many personal items to choose from that Xeno was having a hard time deciding what would work best with a locator spell. Then his eyes fell on a small framed photograph on the desk. It was a photograph of the Professor sitting in a comfortable chair holding a little girl about the same age as Ren's son. Xeno nodded to Ren and removed the photograph from its frame.

Ren said, "Let me cast a disillusionment charm to cover our exit from the Professor's office. You do the alohomora spell to get us out."

Moments later, the two wizards were back in Ren's car. Xeno said, "I hope you have the ingredients we need to perform the locator spell back at your new home, Ren."

"I don't," said Ren. "All of my potions and reagents are back in my workshop in Maine. That is, if they were not already boxed-up and moved to a safe location by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents working with the FBS. Heck, I don't even know where the local Apothecary Shop is here in U-City. We just got here last night, you know."

"Well, we need to find it," said Xeno.

Ren checked his watch, thought for a moment, and said, "Let's go back to the house. Our first delivery of Owl Post should have arrived by now. And I'm betting that it will include a list of all wizarding businesses in the area, including the local Apothecary."

When Ren and Xeno got back to the house a little before noon, they saw that the Owl Post had indeed arrived, and that it included a flyer from the Apothecary that included a map and driving directions. Ricky had just finished eating, and squealed with delight when he saw that his father had returned, and ran straight for him. Ren scooped his son up in a smooth motion, giving him a good hug and a barrage of kisses that made the boy giggle uncontrollably.

As this was going on, Xeno perused the rest of the mail, noting advertisements for other local wizarding establishments. There was a letter for Jenny from someone named Karen Minoru, and a copy of _The Towne Scryer_; the American answer to the UK's _Daily Prophet_. Naturally, the Maine Incursion was the front-page story (with the latest news about The Boy Who Lived relegated to the gossip page.) As for the rest of the Jordan's mail . . . .

Xeno sighed. The rest of the mail appeared to be pamphlets and tracts from various Wizarding "organisations" such as the Magical Sons of the Confederacy, the Illuminated Brethren of the Ebon Night, and the Brotherhood of the Shadowed Path. All included membership application forms.

Xeno shook his head. Whenever some crisis arose, either natural, magical or muggle, the Wizarding Separatist / Supremacist groups came out of the woodwork, trolling for new members. All insisting that the world would be a better place if "we" were the ones in charge. And while these groups did not appear to be obsessed with "blood-purity," they did preach a message of Wizarding Superiority that was not too different from that of the Death Eaters or the Knights of Walpurgis. Xeno felt sorry for Ren. The _Quibbler_ ran an expose on groups like these a few years back. And from his and Pandora's research, Xeno knew that these groups took a "hard-sell" approach to their ideology.

But for now, there was work to be done. While they were away, Dori had made a wonderful carrot and coriander soup with warm, wholemeal bread. The two wizards took their time to enjoy it while they planned their next move. After putting Luna down for her nap, Dori joined them at the table. Ren said that he had never had soup like this before, and asked Dori to give Aggie the recipe before the Lovegoods returned to the UK.

"Our first stop should be the Apothecary," said Xeno thoughtfully. "And then, we go wherever the locator spell takes us."

"So long as it is not too far away from here," said Dori. "I'm given to understand that muggle automobiles have a limited range."

"If it's further than thirty miles or so, we'll have to use a Floo Terminal," said Ren. "I will need to pick Jenny up when school lets out at three."

"We'll at least be able to go to the Apothecary Shop after lunch," said Xeno. "As well as cast the spell to find out where our missing Professor is hiding."

Ren nodded in agreement and the two wizards got ready to leave. But Ricky started fussing, holding on to his father's leg for dear life. Ren said, "You know, Xeno, why don't we take Ricky with us. Give the ladies a chance to have some time to themselves." Ricky was still in his pajamas, so it took a few moments to get the little boy dressed; especially now that he was all excited about going with his dad. Ren put his son into the car seat in back of the '53 Stude, and the three wizards drove off to the Apothecary Shop.

The Apothecary Shop was a small hole-in-the-wall place on Delmar Blvd. not too far from where the Jordans now lived. The proprietor was an older wizard dressed in jeans and a blue flannel shirt named Aldo Ansaldo. As with Mr. Morris, Aldo was a graduate of Hogwarts and had been in Ravenclaw House, though Xeno was not even born when he graduated. The two men spoke a little about that while Ren held Ricky and looked on.

"I had heard that Professor Dumbledore became Headmaster after Professor Dippet retired," said Aldo. "Does Professor McGonagall still teach Transfigurations?"

"Yes, she does," said Xeno.

"How about Potions?" said Aldo. "Is Professor Slughorn still in that position? He was my favorite teacher, as you may well imagine."

"Actually, he recently retired," said Xeno. "The current teacher is a relatively young wizard named Professor Snape. Supposedly, he was one of Professor Slughorn's best students . . . ."

The conversation went on for several more minutes before Aldo asked what he could do for them. "We need to cast a locator spell and we need all of the ingredients."

"All of them?" said Aldo quizzically. "Pretty unusual to have run out of everything at once."

Ren shifted Ricky, and said, "All I have is still back where we used to live, in Collinsport . . . ."

"Ah," said Aldo nodding as he gave Ren a more thorough once-over. "All is clear. You know, I had just made myself some eggplant parmigiana for dinner and was going to watch some television when the WWN had first broadcast the news about the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms. Did everyone you know get out alright?"

Ren nodded. Since the Jordans left Maine, every wizard and witch that he spoke with could tell him exactly what they were doing when they first heard the news that the largest incursion from the Enchanted Realms had arrived in our world. "We're now living a few miles away from here in U-City. My wife went back to Collinsport yesterday to get some of our things."

"My late wife was also a muggle," said Aldo nodding sadly. The Apothecary then waved to Ricky. "So, is this young man your only child?"

"No, we have a ten-year-old daughter named Jenny who is going to Stonewall Elementary."

"No kidding, that's where I went until Fifth Grade, before I went to Hogwarts!" Aldo smiled, and then added, more seriously, "So, I guess your Jenny is the only witch at Stonewall?"

Ren nodded. "We're only a few blocks away from Stonewall. Close enough for her to walk to school, weather permitting."

"Well, say no more," said Aldo. The Apothecary reached under the counter and removed a wrapped package. "Locator Spell Kit. Enough for five spells; it's just the thing for any parent of school-aged children who walk to school!"

Xeno insisted on paying for the kit, and after a few more moments of conversation, the two men and the toddler were back in the car, and on their way back to the Jordan's house. Xeno took out the photograph of Professor Roberts, and said, "Let Dori and me cast the spell while you watch Ricky and Luna." Ren nodded. He had never cast a locator spell, before. But by brushing back his hair and saying, "wingardium leviosa," he had a ball hovering around the room that had Ricky giggling as he tried to catch it from the air and had Luna following it with her wide, pretty eyes.

About twenty minutes later, the Lovegoods came back into the living room. Xeno said, "We're in luck, Ren. According to the spell, Professor Roberts is only about ten miles away from here."

Ren checked his watch. It was almost time to pick up Jenny. Xeno said, "Why don't we go see the professor after we get Jenny from school?" Ren shook his head, telling the Lovegoods about something muggles called "rush hour." Xeno then suggested that they try to speak with Professor Roberts after dinner. A short time later, Ren Jordan and his son went to pick up Jenny from school, hoping that she had a good day, and that she would like the surprise that he had for her when she got home.


	13. The New Girl in Class

**Chapter 13: The New Girl in Class**

At Stonewall Elementary school, Jenny Jordan looked around and decided that Miss Sherman's Fifth Grade classroom was not too different from Miss Peasgood's Fifth Grade classroom back at Collinsport Elementary. Except for minor details, (such as a map of Missouri on the wall, instead of a map of Maine, and a poster featuring Mark Twain instead of Stephen King,) the layout of the room, the artwork on the walls, the Science Fair projects on tables off to the side, the cubbyholes for lunchboxes and closet for coats in the back of the room, the class pet turtle and the textbooks had a familiar feel to them that any American schoolchild could immediately recognize.

Miss Sherman asked Jenny to put her coat in the closet and her hat and gloves in the cubbyhole that Miss Sherman had just labeled for her, then to take an empty desk near the middle of the room. She said that she would introduce Jenny to the rest of the students after the morning announcements. Miss Sherman then took her seat at the desk up front moments before the first students began to file into the room. They came in, about thirty of them in all, stopping to put their things in their assigned cubbyholes and the closet, taking a quick look at the New Girl as they did before sitting at their desks.

For the most part, the students here even resembled the ones at Jenny's former school. The kids in Ms. Sherman's class were a cross-section of ethnicities and about equally divided between boys and girls. Oh, the names were different, but she could easily recognize the _types_.

Here was the Athletic Boy, who could run faster and jump higher and throw a ball further than anyone else in the entire school. Jenny could see him and Cory becoming best friends (or at least friendly competitors,) easily. There was the Most Popular Girl, surrounded by her entourage of friends who were trying their best to dress and act like Seventh Graders. She also saw the Class Clown, the Quiet, Bookish Girl, and the Class Know-it-all.

There were other types as well. The AV kid. The Tomboy. The kid using a wheelchair. The kid who got math easily. The kid who won every Spelling Bee. The Cub Scout in his crisp, blue uniform with a newly earned Webelo Badge, and his Brownie counterpart with her beret and sash. The Class Loud Mouth. And, of course, the Teacher's Pet whose hand would shoot up like a rocket at the first sign of a spitball.

There was also the "bit players;" the majority of the kids who obligingly laughed when the Class Clown cracked-wise and just as obligingly "oooooooohhh'd" when the teacher admonished the kid to behave or he would be paying a visit to the Principal's office.

But unlike Collinsport Elementary, Jenny knew that she was the only kid (only _person_, for that matter,) in her entire school who could do magic, and as such, she had a very big responsibility to keep the secret of The Wizarding World from her muggle classmates.

Jenny's thoughts were interrupted when the intercom came to life with the chimes of a xylophone. The buzz in the classroom stopped as the students stood, hands on hearts, and recited the Pledge of Allegiance to the music of a well-worn record. Jenny knew the routine, and followed along. When the students all sat down, and the announcements over the intercom were done, Miss Sherman motioned for Jenny to come to the front of the room.

"Good morning, students," said Miss Sherman. After the class replied in unison, she continued, "We have a new girl who will be joining our class today. Her name is Jennifer Jordan, and she comes to us all the way from Maine, from a town called Collinsport."

"Why do _we_ always get the _new kids_?" This came from the boy that Jenny had identified as the Loud Mouth. Several of the Bit-Players voiced just enough agreement to not get themselves in trouble. Then every kid turned to look at a boy sitting in the back. His eyes were downcast at his desk, looking at an open textbook that he was pretending to read. More disturbing to Jenny were the vast majority of the kids who remained silent.

But Miss Sherman was _not_ silent. "Eyes _front_, class; I'm _not_ finished speaking." The kids turned their attention from the boy in back to the front of the room. Miss Sherman asked the kids in her classroom to introduce themselves to Jenny, which they all did, starting with the kids in the first row, working their way back.

When it was the boy in back's turn to introduce himself, he had to say his name twice because the first time he spoke too quietly to be heard. "Owen. Owen Flynn." For a moment, his eyes met with Jenny's. He was a slightly chubby, brown-haired boy who looked a little disheveled, and Jenny wondered why his mom and dad let him go out of the house looking like that. Jenny offered him a friendly smile, but the boy looked away, and before Jenny could think anything more of it, the introductions were done and Miss Sherman instructed the class to open their math books.

"Please work the first five problems on page 78," said Miss Sherman. "And remember to show your work, class."

Jenny began work on the first problem. Fortunately, Miss Peasgood used the same math book in her class, and they had finished with page 78 a week ago, just before the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms came through. Jenny remembered the answers, and began to slowly write out her answers to the problems on a sheet of notebook paper. As she did so, she discreetly looked around the room. To her right, the Most Popular Girl smiled and slipped her a note that read, "Meet me and my friends at recess." Without anything to lose, Jenny smiled back and nodded.

When recess finally came, Jenny put on her coat and joined the Most Popular Girl, whose name was Lori, and her two friends, M'Kayla and Ashli . Lori was taller than Jenny by almost half a foot. Both girls had black hair, but while Jenny wore hers in a simple-to-maintain pixie cut, Lori's hair was almost down to her waist. Jenny noticed that Lori looked a little like Brooke Shields, and she seemed to be doing everything possible to play up the similarities. M'Kayla was African-American and wore her hair in an elaborate cornrow style decorated with beads. The last one was Ashli, who wore her blonde hair as long as Lori wore hers. Jenny noted that Ashli seemed to be the lowest in this clique's pecking-order, and was being extra friendly to Jenny; probably hoping to move up a notch if Jenny was accepted by Queen Bee Lori. As the four girls went out to the playground, Ashli complimented M'Kayla on her hairstyle and asked if she could help fix her hair like hers so she could look like Bo Derek.

Jenny sighed. It was going to be a long recess . . . .

Lori led the three other girls to one corner of the playground and once they got there, they had a million questions for Jenny but oddly, no time to allow her to answer. This was almost a relief for Jenny since she could barely understand Lori, who asked most of the questions, but spoke rapid-fire with an exaggerated Valley-Girl accent, barely coming up for air.

"So, like, Jenny, what dress size are you? Do you own any, like, designer jeans? Were you like, popular where you went to school before you came here? So, like, do you think that Scott Baio is, like, a total hunk? I was like totally into Scott Baio last year but now I'm like, grody to the max, okay? I'm so sure! I like, you know, boys like Christopher Atkins, now. Did you, like, see him in "The Blue Lagoon . . . ?" But then to Jenny's horror, Lori asked her last question and then stopped talking as she and her two friends focused on Jenny, awaiting her answer: "So, like, Jenny, do you, like, have a _boyfriend_ . . . ?"

Then Jenny noticed a group of kids near the middle of the playground standing in a circle. They seemed to be tossing something back and forth between them as a boy scrambled in the center of the circle to try and catch whatever it was that they were tossing. And then Jenny realized that the boy was Owen Flynn. _Keep-away_, thought Jenny. _Those kids are playing keep-away with Owen_. Then Jenny corrected herself. _They were playing keep-away at Owen's expense._

Jenny said, "Why are they doing that to Owen?"

"Owen?" said Lori. "You mean, like, the derelict from New Jersey? Barf me out and gag me with a spoon!" The other girls voiced agreement with Lori, and M'Kayla even suggested that maybe Jenny liked Owen as a boyfriend. Otherwise, why would she care . . . ?

Jenny went over to where the kids were teasing Owen, leaving the other girls behind. The closer she got, the more kids from her class she could recognize. The Athletic Boy, who introduced himself in class as Chris, was leading the other kids, and had just caught what they were throwing between them. Chris towered over Owen by almost a full foot, and had no trouble keeping Owen's property just out of the shorter boy's reach. Jenny could see that Owen had been crying and the other kids were laughing.

Jenny wished that Corey's family had come to St. Louis with her family. Chris was a bit taller and more muscular than Corey was. But Corey did not like bullies any more than Jenny did, and Corey was wiry and quick. Jenny had never seen Corey in a real fight; he could make friends with _anyone_. But Jenny was certain that if Chris started anything, then Corey would finish it.

But the Martindales had moved to a Chicago suburb called Schaumburg, where the Potomac Shore Wizard's Hospital was setting up an emergency, "Fall-Back" station in case whatever was behind the Incursion made its move against our world.

"Give it back!" screamed Owen in a hoarse voice. "My dad gave it to me! It's MINE! Give it back!"

Jenny wanted to go up to Chris and punch him in his stomach, (or even a little lower,) to help Owen. But Jenny knew that boys – especially muggle boys - were funny about things like that. They did not like it when _girls_ came to their rescue. This was not so much a problem in the Wizarding World, where the ability to wield magic made the sexes more-or-less equal. But she could see the muggle boys in her class shift uncomfortably whenever the teacher read stories like "Hansel and Gretel," or "The Snow Queen;" where it was the _girl_ who rescued the boy . . . .

Chris threw the item they took from Owen to another boy, and Jenny clenched her fists in frustrated rage. When she did, she realized that she was holding something, and immediately realized that it was the item that the other kids were keeping from Owen. The other kids looked around to see where it went, and quickly lost interest when nobody said they had it. They drifted away, leaving Owen, near tears, standing alone. Jenny looked at the object that she had magically pulled out of the air from the group of bullies. It was a handmade, brown keychain lanyard. Jenny and Karen had made similar ones themselves on a couple of rainy, Saturday afternoons a year ago.

Jenny worried about what had happened, not only for Owen, but for her family as well. She had violated both the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy and the Reasonable Restriction on Underage Magic. But the arrival of the Incursion forced the FBS to spread themselves thin. Maybe her violation had not been detected. But if this was detected, she could get into a lot of trouble. Her dad could get into a lot of trouble.

But thinking about this had to wait until later. Jenny suddenly realized that Owen was staring at her. Jenny took a deep breath, and approached the boy slowly, holding out her hand with the lanyard that she got away from the bullies by involuntary magic. Jenny handed the lanyard to Owen, and said, "Here, I –" But before she could say any more, Owen snatched the lanyard back and ran off. Moments later, the bell announcing the end of morning recess sounded and the kids all went back inside the school.

Throughout the day, Jenny watched as her classmates teased Owen Flynn at every opportunity. Even the Teacher's Pet said nothing, unless it was to report _Owen_ whenever he attempted to retaliate. At lunch time, Owen sat as far away from the others as he could, barely avoiding an attempt by Chris to trip him as he carried his tray to the collection area after wolfing down his lunch so he could go outside, away from the others. Jenny did not see Owen on the playground after lunch, nor was she able to locate him during afternoon recess.

When school finally let out for the day, Jenny hung back to ask her new teacher about Owen and why the other kids were being so mean to him. But Miss Sherman said that she was unable to discuss private matters about other students.

Reluctantly, Jenny nodded and turned to go. But before she could leave the classroom, Miss Sherman said, "Jenny, if you will come back in for a moment, I might be able to tell you a _story_ that might answer some of your questions." Jenny came back in, took the desk closest to Miss Sherman's desk, (the one belonging to the Teacher's Pet,) and sat down, assuming the hands folded posture.

Miss Sherman cleared her throat, and began. "Once upon a time, there lived a young prince in a far off kingdom. Now, this prince was a very happy prince. He had a nice room to call his own in the castle that he lived in with his parents, the king and queen. He had plenty of toys to play with. He had plenty to eat and nice clothes to wear. But most of all, he had two, loving parents. And he also had plenty of friends where he went to school. The prince's life was very, very good and he was very, very happy.

"But then one day, tragedy struck the young prince and his family. His mother, the queen, died unexpectedly, leaving the prince and his father the king alone. But they were strong, and they had each other. Six months after the death of the queen, the king and the young prince decided that they would go on a camping trip together. But tragedy continued to follow them. No one in the kingdom knew what had happened, but a few days later, the young prince was found wandering the road, alone, without the king.

"The prince told everyone who would listen to him that the king had been taken captive by an evil witch who lived in a magical kingdom that could not be seen. The police searched for the king and the mysterious kingdom, but could find neither. They could not even be certain whether or not the king was alive or dead. Eventually, the sad, young prince had to leave the land that he loved to live with his uncle, who was king of a far off land. And while the prince's uncle cared deeply for the young prince, the prince was still not happy, and found it difficult to make new friends in his uncle's land. Sadly, the other children teased the prince relentlessly, making him more and more unhappy and desperate."

Jenny nodded. "What happened next, Miss Sherman?"

"Well, then one day, a pretty young _princess_ who was also from a far off land came to the land of the prince's uncle. And while the other children saw the prince as someone to make fun of, the princess would have nothing of it, and sought to befriend the prince. And she had two most wonderful gifts for the prince; the gifts of friendship and hope."

"Hope?" said Jenny. "What kind of hope?"

"The hope that is the basis of all fairytales, Jenny," said Miss Sherman smiling. "The hope that no matter how bad things may seem at the time, that life can always get better. But for the prince's life to get better, he has to hold onto the hope that a better life is possible. This is the real lesson of the stories that we call "Fairytales," Jenny. That to believe in even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing. The young prince forgot this. But maybe the princess can remind him that he needs to hold onto hope for life to get better, and if nothing else, knowing that he has at least one friend at school will help him do this."

Jenny thought about this for a moment, and said, "How does the story end, Miss Sherman?"

"Well, Jenny, I cannot say how it ends," said Miss Sherman. "That chapter of the story has yet to be written." Jenny nodded, and Miss Sherman continued. "Now, on a slightly different matter, our class has its Swimming Lessons at the high school for Gym Class, tomorrow. Do you have a swimsuit that you may wear?"

"No, Miss Sherman," said Jenny. "My mom will be bringing my swimsuit from Maine when she comes back Monday night. But I do have a pair of cutoffs and a dark tee-shirt. May I wear that instead, tomorrow?"

"I'm afraid not, Jenny. School rules require a simple, one-piece swimsuit for girls, and cutoffs are not allowed for either girls or boys. Tomorrow, you will have to watch the class from the pool's bleachers. You may bring a book to read, if you like."

Jenny nodded, and started to go outside, then turned and said, "Oh, Miss Sherman? One more thing . . . ."

Miss Sherman smiled, and said, "And what would that be, Columbo?"

Jenny grinned, and said, "Can you tell me where the young prince and his father in the story went camping?

Miss Sherman nodded and said, "They went camping in your old neck of the woods, Jenny. They went camping in Maine, about two weeks ago." Miss Sherman then noticed that Jenny's eyes went wide and her mouth opened in surprise. "Jenny? What is it? Are you alright . . . ?"

"Uh, sure, Miss Sherman; I'm fine . . . ," said Jenny. "I'll see you tomorrow. Bye." Jenny ran out and her mind raced as she began to connect the dots. When she got outside, her father and little brother were waiting for her. Then Jenny remembered that her father promised her a surprise when she got home, and Jenny set her forming theory of what may have happened to Owen aside for the moment.

When Jenny got back home, the first thing that she noticed was a wonderful smell of something cooking. Jenny followed her nose to the kitchen where Mrs. Lovegood stirred a pot on the stove while Mr. Lovegood held baby Luna as he sat at the kitchen table. The water was running in the sink as dishes washed themselves. Though her dad never used such a spell when it was his turn to do the dishes, Jenny had seen Karen's mom and dad and Corey's mom wash dishes like that. It was definitely a spell that she wanted to learn one day.

Mr. Lovegood noticed Jenny, and said, "Hello, Jenny. How was your first day at your new school?"

"It was okay," said Jenny. _Except for the bullies picking on Owen and the Valley Girls, that is_, thought Jenny to herself. Fortunately for her, she had the opportunity to smoothly change the subject. "That smells good, Mrs. Lovegood! What is it?"

"Just a little something that I whipped-up for dinner, Jenny," said Mrs. Lovegood. "Your father tells me that you have never had lemongrass chicken before, so I thought that it would be a nice treat. I've also made a salad and some fresh, baked bread. We'll be eating, soon, so you will want to wash up, and then you may help me set the table."

Jenny nodded. "I can't wait to try it, Mrs. Lovegood." She then turned to her father, and said, "Is this the surprise you told me about?"

"Actually, Jenny, the surprise is upstairs," said Ren. He picked up Ricky, and said, "Just follow me." Jenny followed her father to her parents' bedroom. In addition to the queen-sized bed the Morrises had brought for Jenny's mom and dad, there was a dresser with a large mirror. "It will still be a couple of days before the telephone company can hook up our phone. But we're not quite out of touch with everyone else; anymore . . . ." Jenny smiled as her father took out his wand and tapped the mirror frame. She could guess what the surprise was and was not disappointed when her reflection vanished and was replaced by a very familiar face.

"Hi, Healer Martindale!" said Jenny as her smile turned into a broad grin.

"Hello, yourself, Jenny," said Rachel Martindale. Then to Jenny's dad, she said, "So, how do you like St. Louis? Did your move go smoothly?" Rachel then made funny faces at Ricky, who laughed in delight as she listened to Ren's answer.

"We survived the move, Rach," said Ren. "And the neighborhood we moved into is a very beautiful one. But it's going to take us some time to adjust. How's Ken and Corey taking this?"

"Ken's fine, Ren," said Rachel. "We're in Schaumberg now, helping to set up the fallback position in case Potomac Shore is . . . overrun. Corey's in his new school and is already making new friends, but is disappointed that there is no surfing in the Midwest. He's thinking of using his surfboard fund to buy a BMX bike, now. Oh, and that reminds me, there is someone here who wants to say hello, Jenny . . . ."

Rachel said goodbye to Jenny and her father and little brother, and then stepped aside and her son appeared in the mirror. Wearing a brand-new Chicago Cubs cap and grinning broadly, Corey said, "Hey, Jenny! How goes it?"

Ren said, "You've got about a half an hour before you need to help Mrs. Lovegood set the table. I'll be up to get you, then." After saying goodbye to Corey, Ren and Ricky Jordan went back downstairs to give Jenny some privacy.

Corey said, "So, how do you like your new school? Mine isn't too bad. But I miss Collinsport Elementary."

"Me, too," said Jenny. "I like my new teacher, Miss Sherman. But most of my classmates are a bunch of dweebs." Jenny told Corey about her first day and about how the kids in her class were either merciless to Owen Flynn or indifferent to his suffering.

Corey nodded. Bullying was not unheard of at Collinsport Elementary. But given the presence of magic users at their old school, every effort was made to deal with it as swiftly as possible before things could get out of hand. Even then, most of what passed for bullying at Collinsport Elementary was relatively minor compared to the way that Jenny described how her class was treating Owen. "Got any idea why they are singling Owen out for The Treatment?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," said Jenny. "And you won't believe it . . . ." Jenny told Corey about the story that Miss Sherman told her, and could see the look on Corey's face as he was undoubtedly coming to the same conclusion as Jenny when she first heard her teacher's story.

"Are you going to tell your dad, Jenny?" said Corey seriously. "You've really got to; especially after what you did with Owen's lanyard. If nothing else, it may get you out of trouble if you report yourself to the FBS before they find out, themselves."

"But I'm still not sure, Corey," said Jenny. "I mean, if Owen and his dad were trapped inside the Incursion when it came through, then how did Owen escape? No, Corey, I need to find out more before I say something to Owen that might risk exposing us to the rest of the world."

"How are you planning to do that? I mean, it's not like you can just go and ask him if he and his dad were taken captive by some evil witch from the Enchanted Realms who lives in an invisible town somewhere in Maine."

"I know," said Jenny. "I'll try talking with Owen again, tomorrow. That is, if he'll even talk with me. And the way he is being treated by the other kids, I can't say as I blame him if he does not want to . . . ."

Jenny and Corey spoke a little longer before Corey's mom came into the mirror and said that Corey had to come to dinner. Jenny said goodbye, and told Corey that she would call him again by mirror after school tomorrow. Then Jenny went downstairs to help Mrs. Lovegood set the table and finish getting dinner ready.


	14. More Private Investigations

**Chapter 14: More Private Investigations**

After a wonderful dinner of lemongrass chicken, Ren and Xeno got ready to find Professor Roberts, hoping that he would speak with them. The original plan had been for Ren and Xeno to go by themselves; thinking that Ricky would not fuss too much when they tried to leave now that his big sister was home. But what they did not count on was that not only did Ricky fuss, but that Jenny _also_ wanted to tag along. Ren balked at first, but then relented when Jenny pointed something out that the two wizards did not consider.

"In the picture you showed me, the Professor is holding a little girl about Ricky's age, dad," said Jenny. "Maybe if Ricky and me come along, he might be more willing to talk with you when he sees that you are dads, too? And I can watch Ricky while you talk to the Professor."

Ren silently checked Xeno's face. The English Wizard seemed to mull Jenny's idea over, and then nodded in agreement. "The Malfoys brought their son to the DWC. I suppose that having Jenny and Ricky come with us wouldn't hurt. But if the professor really is trying to hide from someone, and that someone finds him while we are there . . . ."

Jenny said, "I'm not afraid, Mr. Lovegood! You and dad will be there with your wands. And I am an Honorary Junior Auror, after all!"

"Maybe we should _all_ go?" said Dori thoughtfully. "The presence of a mother and a baby would definitely help show the Professor that we are not there to harm him or his daughter." _And an extra _wand_ on hand wouldn't hurt, either; especially if there _is_ trouble . . . ._

"Our car will only carry five people safely, Dori," said Ren. "Xeno and I in the front seats, you and Jenny in the back, and Ricky in his car seat in the middle. There would be no seat for Luna."

"I could hold her," insisted Dori.

"And if we had to stop short, Luna would fly out of your arms like a Rogue Bludger," said Ren.

"Not if I cast a spell to keep her from leaving my arms," said Dori. "I use this spell all the time whenever I have to take Luna somewhere on my broom."

"I suppose you could, Luv," said Xeno. "But if the Professor is hiding from someone, too many people might seem overwhelming. For now, I think it best that it be only the four of us to pay a call on the Professor, at least for now."

Reluctantly, Dori agreed in the end, but insisted that Xeno take his mirror with him so they could stay in touch. Xeno commented that he had read about muggles trying to develop a 'mobile telephone' that could do something similar to an enchanted mirror, but Ren opined that he doubted it would happen anytime soon.

Then Jenny ran upstairs to get her coat and her Honorary Junior Auror badge, which she promptly pinned onto her shirt, and moments later, the foursome set out to find Professor Roberts.

The locator spell led them to a small motel at a truck stop off of Highway 270. Xeno stared in awe at the large number of eighteen wheeled, articulated lorries coming in and out of the large complex that included petrol pumps, shops, restaurants and a motel. Xeno could understand why the Professor chose this place to hide out. There were places to eat and buy other sundry items as well as large numbers of people coming and going to get lost among. And though the Professor could not know this, this place would be relatively safe from wizard pursuers; especially Purebloods, who would stand out like sore thumbs among so many muggles.

Then a disturbing thought crossed Xeno's mind. If the Pureblooded Wizards seeking contact with the Enchanted Realms would employ muggle scientists to achieve this end, then might they not also employ muggles for _other_ "services?" The thought made Xeno frown as well as shiver. If so, then any wizards who might be looking for the Professor could cast a locator spell and then send their hired muggle thugs to abduct the Professor, or worse . . . .

Ren pulled the Stude into a parking space and killed the engine. "Jenny, I want you to hold hands with Ricky and the two of you to stay close to Mr. Lovegood and me. According to the locator spell, Professor Roberts is in Unit 1014, right over there. Ah, Xeno? How should we go about this? Do we just knock on his door or _what_ . . . ?"

Xeno said, "We may not have to, Ren, look . . . ." Xeno tilted his head in the direction of the motel. An African-American man in his mid-thirties and a little girl about Ricky's age were coming up to the door. The man held the girl's hand and carried a grocery bag. "This may be our chance, Ren. Let us walk up to them slowly. It will take him a moment to get his key from his pocket with his hands full."

As the foursome approached, Ren wondered how they would break the ice. But as it turned out, he did not have to wonder for long. When they were about four yards away, Ricky slipped away from his sister and toddled up to the girl, who turned in Ricky's direction and smiled. Ricky stopped in front of the girl, and the two toddlers looked each other over. Professor Roberts looked down at his daughter and the boy and smiled. Ricky looked up at the man, pointed to his daughter and said, "A girl!"

"Well, that's very good, young man," said the Professor with a chuckle. "My daughter Tammy is indeed, a girl!" He then looked up at the two other men and the school-aged girl, who stopped a few feet away. "So, which one of you two is the father of this Junior Lady's Man?"

"That would be me," said Ren, who then nodded to the older girl, and added, "Jenny's mine, also." Ren extended his hand for the Professor, who shook it, and said, "My name is Lawrence Jordan, but most people call me "Ren" for short."

"Ren?" said the Professor quizzically. "Why not "Larry?"

"Well, there are so many "Larry's" in my family that they shortened my name at the front instead of the back and started calling me "'Rence" to make things easier. By the time I was about my daughter's age, it got shortened again to "Ren." I kind of like it, actually." Ren then gestured to the other man, and said, "And this is Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood." The Professor took in Mr. Lovegood's appearance, and then extended his hand.

"A pleasure," said Xeno.

The Professor noted the man's accent, and then broke off the shake, giving Xeno a hard look. "You're from _there_, aren't you? You are one of _them_." Professor Roberts sighed, shook his head in resignation, and said, "Look, I'll go with you. I'll do whatever you want! But please let me call my mother to pick up Tammy. Please, she has nothing to do with this. She's just a little girl!"

"Professor Roberts," said Xeno softly. "We are not here to hurt anyone, least of all a child! I'll have you to know that I am _also _the father of a daughter. My daughter's name is Luna, and she is one-year old . . . ." Xeno reached slowly into his coat and removed a picture that he handed to the Professor. Professor Roberts looked at the picture of Xeno with a blonde woman holding a newborn infant before he handed it back. The Professor rubbed his eyes. He knew that he was sleep-deprived as of late. But he could have sworn that the people in the photograph were _moving_ . . . .

Ren said, "Professor, when you said "over there;" were you talking about England? Are people from England trying to harm you?"

The Professor looked down at his daughter and Ren's son. Ren's daughter Jenny was kneeling next to her brother, saying, "Isn't she pretty?" The boy nodded. Jenny said, "Why don't you tell Tammy that she is pretty? Girls like that!"

Ricky looked at Tammy and said, "Pretty girl!" Tammy replied by giggling, with Ricky and Jenny joining in.

Again, the Professor sighed. "They spoke with English accents. But somehow I don't think that _England_ is where they come from. Originally . . . ."

Ren said, "Professor Roberts, Mr. Lovegood is a journalist for an English paper. He has heard of your work in extra-dimensional exploration and he just wants to ask you a few questions."

"It won't take long, I promise," confirmed Xeno. The Professor nodded slowly, and Xeno continued, "First, where do you think the people you are trying to hide from are from, if not England?"

The Professor hesitated, looked down at the children, and said, "Over There. I think that you know what I mean." The Professor looked up, fixing Xeno with a firm stare. "Are you from Over There, too?"

Xeno solemnly said, "I am from the UK, from a town called Ottery St. Catchpole – you'll not have heard of it. That is where I was born. That is where my Luna was born as well."

Ren added, "And I was born in Nebraska, though I've lived in Maine since I was thirteen, in a town called Collinsport. That is where my children were born."

Xeno said, "There are those among us who believe that we have _ancestors_ who originally came from . . . "Over There;" and I must confess that I accept this as a very distinct possibility, myself, though my driver and guide," Xeno nodded to Ren, "remains unconvinced at present.

"But even if this is true, our origins are long lost in antiquity. Our families are as much natives of this world – _this dimension_ \- as you and Tammy are. Please let me make it clear that as far as we are concerned, our ties - _our loyalties_, are to _this_ world; the world that we were _born _into."

The Professor raised an eyebrow, and said, "And the people who are financing my research?"

"Ah," said Xeno. "Well, as to that . . . ."

Professor Roberts nodded and suggested that they all go inside the motel room to continue the conversation, out of the cold. The moment they were inside, Tammy broke into a run for the dining table in the kitchenette where there was an open package of Fig Newtons. She took two out of the package and ran back to Jenny and Ricky, offering them each a treat.

Jenny grinned broadly. "It looks like Ricky has a little girlfriend!" She knelt beside her brother, and added, "Thank Tammy for the snack, Ricky."

"Thank Ta – me!" said Ricky with a mouthful of Fig Newton, making Tammy laugh.

The Professor said, "Jenny, I want to talk with your father and Mr. Lovegood. Would you please watch Tammy and your brother while the grownups talk?" Jenny nodded, and the Professor motioned for them to come over to the table. The three men sat down, speaking in lowered voices. "First, how did you find me? How did you track me here?"

"Would you believe that I was on my High School Reunion Committee a few years back?" deadpanned Ren.

Xeno shot Ren a reproachful look, then turned to the Professor, and said, "How we found you is not important. What is more pertinent is that anybody that you are attempting to hide from has the same technique at their disposal. If you are trying to avoid anyone like us, then I am sorry to tell you that you will not be able to avoid them for long."

Ren said, "Professor Roberts, where exactly do you think we are from and what do you think we are? I can assure you that Xeno is a journalist and that I work in the lumber department at a local hardware store."

"A journalist, huh?" said the Professor. "And what publication do you work for?"

"I worked for a newspaper called "_The Daily Prophet_" from the time I was eighteen to just a few years ago. You'll not have heard of it. But I had grown disillusioned by their approach to reporting. Now, I publish my own newspaper called "_The Quibbler_." You'll not have heard of it, either; distribution is mainly within the UK.

"I am currently following a story about a certain . . . _faction_ among _us_ who is most anxious to locate a particular, shall we say, "place," that is not in our world. Normally, they have no use for conventional science. But they have become somewhat desperate as of late. So desperate, I'm afraid, that they will disdain nothing in their quest to find what they seek."

The Professor looked back to where his daughter Tammy was playing with Mr. Jordan's children. Jenny had taken off her shoes and was sitting cross-legged on the floor as she put on an impromptu puppet show for the two toddlers with Tammy's stuffed "Winnie the Pooh" toys, making funny voices for each different character. Her impression of Eeyore made Professor Roberts chuckle. Professor Roberts looked back to the two men, shook his head and said, "I don't know you two from Adam. And I have no idea of what you are; just a theory of what you might be. But whatever that is, whatever you are, you do not strike me as people who want to hurt us. But, if I am to cooperate with you, I will need to know more."

Xeno opened his mouth to speak, but Ren cut him off, "Ah, Xeno, maybe we should –"

But Xenophilius Lovegood held up his hand for silence. Ren was, after all, just Xeno's driver and local guide. But if Xeno was about to do what Ren thought he was . . . . Ren said, "Listen, Xeno, if you are planning to do what I think you are, maybe I should be the one to break-the-ice, here. I mean, I do have previous experience with my wife and her family."

Xeno said, "It might be best if I do most, if not all, of the talking here, Ren. I am not a US Citizen and I am a journalist. These two facts offer me somewhat more leeway than you might have in this situation." Ren sighed in resignation. He still thought that this was a Very Bad Idea. Better to report their findings to the FBS and let them take it from here. But in the end, Ren nodded in agreement, and Xeno continued. "Professor Roberts, before I say anything else, would you be as kind as to tell us who and what _you_ think we are?"

The Professor lowered his voice, and said, "I think – are you from _another universe_? That is, are your people, your ancestors, originally from a _parallel universe_ and somehow came to be in our own universe? And as for how you managed to find me; do you have some kind of meta-human abilities? Are you . . . are you mutants or mutates of some kind . . . ?"

Ren said, "Ah, no, we are not mutants or mutates. I mean, we would not be ashamed if we were, but our . . . abilities come from another source."

"And what 'source' would that be?" said the Professor.

Xeno said, "Well, Professor Roberts . . . ."

As the adults spoke, Jenny lost all track of time as she played with Ricky and Tammy. Jenny loved her little brother dearly, though there were times when she wished that she had a little _sister_ instead; someone she could play dress-up with and give sage older-sister advice to. She envied her friend Karen Minoru at times like that. True, Karen was an only child, but she did have her little cousin Nico to dote on just the same. And now that Karen was staying in Los Angeles with her Uncle Robert and Aunt Tina, she was practically a big sister in all but name.

But Jenny had about two years of real Big Sister experience under her belt, and if Tammy's attention span was anything like Ricky's, then she would need something different to keep their interest. Then Jenny noticed the videocassette recorder on top of the motel room's TV, with several, age-appropriate videos in a small stack alongside. But just as Jenny got up to go over to the TV and put one in, her father called over to her.

"Jenny, we have a little problem, here," said Ren evenly. "Tammy's father wants to show Mr. Lovegood and me something he has on videotape. We'll need the TV. But what he has to show us . . . I would rather you not see.

"The problem is that this is a single room, so for privacy I would like for you to make a "tent" by putting the bedspread over the dining table and stay under it until we are done. It won't take long. Probably less than five minutes. Do you think that you can keep your brother and Tammy occupied in the tent for that long?"

"Sure, dad," said Jenny as she went over to the bed to gather the top cover.

Ren said, "Ah, Jenny, that won't be necessary." He then he nodded to Xeno, turned to Professor Roberts, and said, "I hope that this is proof enough . . . ."

Jenny watched wide-eyed as Mr. Lovegood drew his wand, made an incantation, and the few items on the dining table teleported over to the kitchenette counter. Another swish and flick, and the four chairs around the table moved aside. Then Jenny's father brushed back his hair with his hand and the bedspread lifted from the bed and settled down over the table. Jenny glanced at the Professor, whose expression was unreadable. She then glanced at her brother and Tammy, who weren't even watching when her father and Mr. Lovegood performed magic in front of a muggle. Jenny started to say something, but her father held up his hand for silence. Though Jenny's mouth closed, her eyes stayed wide open.

Ren said, "What you just saw, Professor Roberts, was _not_ a display of telekinesis and did _not_ come from an "X-Gene," or exposure to gamma-rays, or any other kind of radiation or substance that mutated us. It is a _gift_, if you will. No different than your own ability to perform complex calculations in your head while I would need a pocket calculator just to balance my checkbook.

"You could give us a battery of medical tests; an MRI or a CAT Scan, and you will find _nothing_ atypical about us. Xeno and I could walk between a long row of Trask Industries Sentinels, and we wouldn't attract their attention. In fact, we could even get twelve more wizards and witches and play a Quidditch game in front of them on our broomsticks and they wouldn't give us a second look."

"Broomsticks . . . ?" The Professor made a nervous laugh. "_Really _. . . ?"

"What we do is _magic_, Professor," said Ren. "It cannot be explained by muggle science. It just . . . it just _is _. . . ."

Xeno said, "I must emphasize, Professor, that Ren and I – Jenny and Ricky, too, for that matter, and my wife Pandora and our daughter, Luna - are as human as you and Tammy are. We are of _this_ world, Professor, even if we may have had ancestors who came from the Enchanted Realms millennia ago. Our ties are to _this_ world, _this_ universe. And if what we told you about is, in fact, the beachhead of a hostile invasion from the Enchanted Realms or anywhere else, you may rest assured that we will be fighting alongside of our world's muggles to protect our world from _any_ invaders."

Ren said, "Professor, my family has _already_ lost our _home_ to these invaders. The Federal Bureau of Sorcery that we told you about ordered an evacuation of all magic users from Maine to keep our existence secret from them. My family spent a little over a week in a Displaced Wizards' Center in Massachusetts. We only relocated to Missouri a few days ago with almost _nothing_ but the clothes on our backs. Even though a fund has been established by the Addams Family – the wealthiest Wizarding Family in the country if not the whole world - to help families like mine pay our rent for a year, we will be in _serious_ financial trouble if the "All Clear" is not sounded before then. In fact, we already are in serious trouble. I was supplementing my income from the lumber yard where I worked in Collinsport by making and servicing racing brooms. But here . . . ." Ren shook his head, his expression a mixture of desperation and resignation.

"I guess things really are tough all over," said Professor Roberts dryly, but not unkindly. The Professor shook his head, and continued, "Magic . . . . Real, _Fairytale_ Magic . . . . You must understand how hard it is for me, a man of science, to believe any of this without reservation . . . . But what we saw on the tape from our last probe attempt . . . ." The Professor went to the bed, and removed a videocassette from under the pillow. "We told our . . . financial backers . . . that the latest attempt was a failure. We told them that the probe went out but did not transmit anything back. That's what happened during our first three attempts, but not this time. This time, we _did_ get a transmission; almost three minutes worth of data."

Ren nodded to Jenny, and said, "Jenny, please take your brother and the Professor's daughter under the tent and don't come out until we say it is alright. Consider it part of your Honorary Junior Auror duties." Jenny hesitated for only a moment, and then she got under the makeshift tent, called for the two toddlers to come to her, and to everyone's relief, they complied. Jenny brought Tammy's cassette tape recorder with her and moments later the three men heard Jenny leading her brother and Tammy in a round of "C is for Cookie."

The Professor's hands shook slightly as he turned on the TV, popped the tape into the recorder, and hit "play."

The screen came to life and on the screen a box-like object about the size of a washing machine and mounting cameras, antennae and various kind of sensor arrays was sitting on a platform as a voiceover was counting backwards from twenty. The voice was enthusiastic and it was hard to believe that it belonged to Professor Roberts.

The Professor said to the two wizards, "The probe was designed to go out and not come back. That way, we didn't need any decontamination facilities. And we had no plans to send _people_ until we can get a proper quarantine chamber for any returning Multiversenauts we sent out. Now watch closely, we are about to teleport . . . now . . . ." The Professor's voice on the tape said, ". . . two . . . one . . . zero . . . _Send_!" And the probe disappeared from the platform in a flash of light amid cheers from the Professor and his team.

The camera then switched to a video screen on a control panel, filming over the shoulders of two technicians monitoring readouts and dials. The image on the screen showed what looked like a dirt road in the middle of a forest. Ruts in the road suggested that wheels (or at the very least, sledge runners,) were used by this universe's natives and that the hoof prints between the ruts pointed to the existence of draft animals as well. The technicians focused on these for a moment before elevating the camera to horizontal and slowly making a 360 degree sweep of the "landing site."

As the camera panned, the technicians shifted their attention between the screen and the instruments on the panel. Ren and Xeno could feel the excitement as the technicians called out readings between exclamations of success.

"Temperature at 74 degrees Fahrenheit! Humidity at sixty percent! Oh, man, this is fantastic! Barometric pressure at . . . ."

"Atmosphere comprised of seventy-six point five percent nitrogen. Twenty-two point one percent oxygen – guys, it's breathable! And I'm detecting no traces of industrial pollution or excessive radioactivity. Whoever lives here, they are definitely Pre-Industrial. Other gases include argon at point eight two percent, carbon dioxide at . . . ."

"Gravity is at point nine eight nine G's! Guys, I bet that even I could knock one out of the park over there . . . !"

"Commencing with on-site soil-sample analysis . . . data incoming . . . ."

"Never mind that, Steve, get the _audio_ working!"

"None of the microphones are on line, Mitch. Must be a malfunction in the audio transmitter hardware . . . ."

"Too bad, man! We could have been the _first_ people to actually hear _sounds_ coming from another world!"

Then Professor Roberts' voice on the tape said, "Hold the camera! Now, move it back to the left, that's it, counter-clockwise . . . there. Stop. Now, what's that on that tree? Zoom in . . . ."

All other activity stopped as the camera zoomed in to what looked like a flyer posted on the trunk. When the camera focused, the room went silent. The camera had focused on what appeared to be a "Wanted Poster" printed on parchment. The poster showed a picture – drawing, actually, of a young, dark-haired woman in her mid-20's staring frankly out at the viewer. In perfectly readable, Roman script font were the words,

**WANTED**

**For crimes against the Queen:**

**Murder,**

**Treason,**

**Treachery **

The silence was broken by one of the technicians. "They're _humanoid_ . . . ! And they use _our_ alphabet . . . . How can this be?"

"I don't know about the writing, but they _are_ humanoid, alright. Look . . . !"

Something – or rather, _someone_ had come between the probe's camera and the poster on the tree. The technician refocused the camera, and saw the face of a man between thirty and forty, though he was so weather-beaten that it was hard to tell. The man was dressed in medieval peasant's work clothes and carried a basket full of what looked like carrots or parsnips. The man had been cautiously examining the probe, and then abruptly turned his attention away from the alien machine as he looked down the road.

Something was clearly approaching, but without a functioning microphone, it was hard to determine what it could be. The man looked around, as though trying to decide if he should stay or leave. But the decision was made for him as several men on horseback suddenly appeared in the camera's field of view. The men wore black armor; they were knights of some kind, and directly behind the knights, Ren and Xeno saw a magnificent, black carriage come to a stop.

The knights reared their horses and the peasant fell to his knees, but then the knights dismounted, seized the peasant, and frog-marched him toward the carriage. Then the door to the carriage opened and a woman stepped out. Instinctively, Lawrence Jordan and Xenophilius Lovegood knew that she was a witch. And she did not look amused.

The Professor quickly glanced over to Ren and Xeno, whose attention was riveted on the woman on the screen; the scientist in him was interested in their reaction in spite of himself. He was a Theoretical Physicist, not an Anthropologist. But it would take several more months of research with his new colleagues before the Professor could fully understand why the witch stepping out of the carriage had these two wizards so captivated . . . .

One of the effects of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was that the separation of wizards from muggles made the former group coalesce into a society and culture of their own to the point that "Wizard" was not just a talent and a skillset; it had become a virtual _ethnicity_ as well. And like all ethnicities, Wizarding Society had developed its own sense of aesthetics regarding physical attractiveness.

While magazines aimed at muggle men featured young women in their late teens and early twenties modeling lingerie and two-piece swimsuits (often without the tops,) that put generous swaths of legs, midriffs and breasts on display, Wizarding magazines took a somewhat different approach.

The witches who modeled clothes in Wizarding magazines tended to be ten to twenty years older than their muggle model counterparts. They tended to favor dark hair set in elaborate coifs instead of long, cascading blonde hair. Instead of G-strings and bikinis, these witches modeled outfits that would not look out of place during the Middle Ages or the Renaissance, with lots of brocade and lace trim, and ample décolletage on display.

Also, while Wizards liked cute birthmarks as much as muggle men did, an odd feature of Wizarding Culture was the appreciation of _scars_; especially those earned honorably. Ren reflected that this was some cause of puzzlement for Aggie when she saw Jenny and Karen playing dress-up a few years ago and using a wax pencil to (over) decorate themselves with scars on their cheeks and arms.

Because of this, both Lawrence Jordan and Xenophilius Lovegood could not help but keep their attention riveted on the regal-looking witch who stepped out of the carriage. By Wizarding standards of female beauty, she was hitting all the high points. She looked to be in her mid-thirties with her dark hair set in an elaborate style, and she wore a fancy dress of black and burgundy that was accessorized with tasteful jewelry. Adding to her physical attractiveness was a small scar on her upper lip. But unlike the witches modeling clothes in magazines aimed at Wizards, her face was set in a scowl instead of a pleasant, come-hither look.

"Uh, Xeno?"

"Yes, Ren?"

"I am a happily married man."

"I am, too, Ren."

"I feel dirty, Xeno . . . ."

"Why, Ren? We aren't doing anything inappropriate here. I mean, Dori likes to look at pictures of this sod named Gildroy who has been making news, lately. All the witches do. We're just . . . just looking at her with . . . with _appreciation_. Uh, Ren . . . ?"

"Yeah, Xeno?"

"I hope that Luna never decides to dress like _that _in a magazine . . . ."

Ren nodded, "Or Jenny . . . ."

"Though I would not mind it if Dori wore something like that from time to time; perhaps enchanting her hair to be darker before she had it set up and styled . . . ."

"I could never convince Aggie to wear something like that, Xeno," replied Ren shaking his head. Ren was certain that Aggie's "D's" would set off the outfit's plunging neckline better than the witch caught by the probe's camera, who was a "B" at best. "I-I _tried_, but Aggie said that it seemed like a lot of work to go through if I was only going to take it off of her a few minutes later . . . . Uh, Xeno . . . ?"

Ren pointed at the screen. The probe operator had panned back and Ren and Xeno saw two of the knights manhandle the peasant, bringing him before the witch, forcing him to kneel before her. She was obviously asking questions and the man was apparently trying to answer, but his answers did not seem to satisfy her. The witch pointed angrily in the direction of the probe, then turned her attention back to the peasant, who assumed a pleading posture, shaking his head vigorously in denial. He knew nothing of the strange object that had just appeared out of nowhere.

But the witch was still not satisfied. She barked out a command and then the knights hauled the poor man to his feet. Her right hand shot for the man's chest with the speed of a striking cobra, and both Ren and Xeno watched slack-jawed as they realized that her hand had actually _penetrated_ the man's chest. Then the witch pulled her hand out, clutching what looked like the man's _heart_, which was glowing with enchantment. Before the two wizards could process what they had just seen, the witch crushed the heart into dust as the man slumped over, dead.

The knights then dragged the dead body to the side of the road, dumping it in a ditch. The witch stepped closer to the probe, and then she conjured a fireball out of the air, tossing it directly at the probe. The image on the screen was replaced by a blue field and the words "probe signal lost."

Professor Roberts ejected the tape, and said, "My assistants and I discussed what we should do next. Based on what we saw, we decided that what we discovered was too dangerous to become public knowledge, much less to report to our financial backers." The Professor chuckled bitterly, and said, "You know, when I was about Jenny's age, I would dream of how wonderful it would be to actually make contact with people from another world; either from another planet in our universe, or from a world in another dimension. I grew up with TV shows like "Lost in Space" and "Galaxy Quest" and movies like "Star Wars" that made it seem so exciting and glamorous. But now I realize that in _reality_ it would be opening a big can of worms – no, a gargantuan can of _venomous vipers_ . . . .

"So, my assistants and I spent the next three hours carefully destroying most of our notes and critical pieces of hardware. And what we did not destroy, we altered so that nobody who tried to continue our work would be pointed in the right direction. Then, for good measure, we set the laboratory on fire before going our separate ways."

Xeno nodded, and said, "Did your 'financial backers' attempt to contact you afterwards?"

"Oh, yes," said the Professor. "We told them that the experiment was a failure and that our laboratory burned down due to an equipment malfunction. I think that they could sense our nervousness; that something was wrong. But I was able to cover that by launching into a speech about how close we were to a breakthrough, and to please not cut our funding, yet. They seemed to have bought my song and dance. At least, for now . . . ."

Xeno said, "Professor, you should know that your financial backers are members of some of the most ancient wizarding families in the world. Their personal agenda is Pureblooded Wizarding Supremacy, and they hope to enlist the aid of Mages from the Enchanted Realms to accomplish this end. That is why they were backing your research.

"Though it is tempting to believe that your work with inter-dimensional travel has been rendered moot because of the Maine Incursion, I do not believe that this will be the case for very long. The American Federal Bureau of Sorcery as well as muggle agencies like S.H.I.E.L.D. have the perimeter of the Incursion under very close scrutiny. And I believe that should the Pureblood Supremacist decide that the cordon is impenetrable, then they will redouble their efforts to use muggle science. You and your assistants will still be in danger. And as I said earlier, your financial backers have the same methods – the same _spells_ at their disposal that Ren and I used to locate you. Because of this, you and your daughter and your assistants will need the protection of the American Magical Authorities."

Ren gestured to the telephone on the nightstand, and added, "If you want, we can call the FBS now and they can have an Auror or a Whitelighter here within seconds to keep you and Tammy safe."

Professor Roberts considered what the two wizards said and nodded. "You realize that I will need to discuss everything that has happened here tonight with my colleagues. This involves them, too."

"Of course, Professor," said Xeno. "But when will you know? It should be as soon as possible. For one thing, Ren and I have only 12 hours to alert the FBS of our breech of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy to stay out of trouble, ourselves. The Ministry of Magic in the UK will need to be notified as well, since I am the primary cause of the breech."

The Professor checked his watch. "Can you give me at least until tomorrow morning? Say around nine-thirty? That will give me time to see Tammy off with my mom and contact my assistants."

Xeno considered the Professor's request. It was a little after ten. If they came back the next morning and contacted the FBS around nine-thirty, that would be enough time, though it would be cutting it very close. But Xeno knew that matters like these were delicate. "Alright, Professor, we'll come back tomorrow morning around nine-thirty."

"One more thing," said the Professor. "What that . . . woman did to that man. Can you two do that, too?"

Ren shook his head vigorously. "Professor Roberts, I have never seen nor heard of magic being used like that. Yes, there is magic that can harm and even kill. But what that witch did to that poor man was like nothing that I've ever heard about."

"Nor have I," added Xeno solemnly. "As far as I can tell, she did not use a gesture, much less a wand or even so much as an incantation to kill that man. She just reached out and took that poor sod's heart like she was scrumping an apple." Xeno shook his head. "I'd not want to fight her or anyone like her in a wizard's duel – not against reaction time like that! She'd have my heart out before I could wave my wand and say, "protego."

"But you _can_ kill someone with magic?" persisted the Professor.

Ren said, "I would never do that, Professor. That would be an abuse of my gift. Besides, here in the US, the American Wizengamot imposes the death penalty on wizards and witches who use magic to kill muggles."

"Barbaric," said Xeno softly.

"Because throwing convicted felons into a room full of _dementors _is the epitome of enlightenment," said Ren dryly.

Xeno started to reply to Ren's snide remark, but decided against it. They were both quite shaken by what they had seen. Xeno said, "Professor, I must reiterate that Ren and I and ninety-nine percent of all magic users in our world are good people! And we would never, ever, side with invaders from the Enchanted Realms or anywhere else against our own world!"

The Professor considered this for a moment, and then nodded, apparently satisfied. "Okay."

Ren called for Jenny to come out from the tent, telling her to get her shoes and coat back on and to get Ricky into his coat for the ride home. But the little boy was having fun with his new friend, and did not want to leave. It took a bit, but Ren assured his son that he would see Tammy again, soon.

"Say goodbye to Tammy, Ricky," said Jenny.

"Bye, Ta-mee," said Ricky through a mouthful of another Fig Newton that Tammy had gave him for the road."

"Bye Ricky," said Tammy as she waved goodbye to the young wizard.

"We'll see you tomorrow, Professor," said Xeno. They said goodbye, and moments later, Professor Roberts and his daughter were alone in their motel room.

Tammy said, "Ricky come back?"

Professor Roberts shook his head and sighed. "No, Tammy. We won't be here tomorrow. Grandma is coming in a few hours to pick you up and take you to safety. And even if she wasn't, I don't want you to play with that wizard and his witch sister _ever_ again." The Professor shook his head, relieved that Tammy did not try to kiss Ricky Jordan goodbye; she was an affectionate girl. Oh, Jenny and Ricky _seemed_ like good children. But they could do magic. And little ones grow up to be big ones . . . .

Professor Roberts got his daughter ready for bed, and then put on her favorite tape, Raffi's "_Baby Beluga_," to help her fall asleep. To the Professor's relief, she was out before "All I Really Need," was over. Then the Professor called the number that he had been given by the people who contacted him the day before, telling them about the visit that he just had with two wizards and what he was able to learn. The person at the other end from the anti-magic organization known as The Home Office assured him that he would pick him up shortly after his daughter went with his mother.

After hanging up the phone, Professor Roberts checked again to make certain that his daughter was asleep. He then set up the video camera, and began recording himself. "Dear Tamara. If you are watching this, then I am most likely dead. In the course of my studies, I have discovered the single, greatest threat to our world. It is not mutants or extra-terrestrials. It is the unholy power of those who use _magic_ . . . ."

_Author's Note:__ First, let me apologize, not only for the delay in getting this chapter posted, but for the length of this chapter, as well. I am still new to this hobby, after all._

_Poor _Ricky Jordan_ can't seem to catch a break. So far, he has met two kids his age and played well with them. But ten years from now, one will hate him because he is a wizard, and one will hate him for not being wizard enough . . . ._

_Finally, how about enabling your _Private Messaging_ function, Horace? I'd like to correspond with you._


	15. Ambiguities

**Chapter 15: Ambiguities **

Neither Jenny's father nor Mr. Lovegood said much on the ride back home, though Jenny was bursting with questions. _Her father and Mr. Lovegood actually exposed the existence of the Wizarding World to a muggle! _Though Jenny knew that her father had done this before – with her mom and her family – and she knew that Healer Martindale had to do the same when she married Corey's dad, Jenny had never seen it actually done, before. She heard Mr. Lovegood tell Professor Roberts that they only had 12 hours from the time they revealed the existence of magic to a muggle to the time they had to report what they did to the FBS. She also heard that, because the Professor wanted them to come back in the morning that they would barely make the deadline.

Because of this, Jenny's father told her at breakfast that when she got home from school, that there was a good chance that she might find herself home alone for a little while.

"Won't Mrs. Lovegood be home?" said Jenny. "And Luna?"

"I will be going with your father and my husband, Jenny," said Pandora Lovegood in a more subdued tone than usual. "After you went to bed, we discussed what had happened, and I will be going with the men to meet with the Professor and the FBS Aurors. There will probably be a representative from the UK's Ministry of Magic there as well. Of course, Luna and Ricky will have to come with us."

Jenny told Mrs. Lovegood not to worry, that she could make herself something for dinner when she got home. She had been meaning to try some of the marmalade that the Lovegoods brought with them on a peanut butter sandwich, and that was probably what she would eat.

"Intriguing idea . . . ," said Xeno nodding, a look of curiosity on his face as he considered the unusual combination. "We must try that combination, ourselves, one day, Dori."

The rest of the adult breakfast combination was sparse and what was said was somewhat cryptic to Jenny's ears.

"I still can't believe that witch's reaction time, Ren," said Xeno. "Or how she did what she did without so much as an incantation."

"Or what she did," added Ren. "I've never even heard of magic being used quite like that."

"It was impressive," admitted Dori, who added dryly, "But that scar was obviously fake."

"I wonder if we can commission a draughtsman to look at our memories and make a sketch of her for _The Quibbler_?" said Xeno thoughtfully.

"Why not?" added Dori with unabashed sarcasm. "We can feature her on _Page Three . . . ._"

"Unlike _Witch Weekly_ that can't seem to get enough of Gildroy Lockhart, posing in his justicorps, and powdered wigs?" replied Xeno.

"Can we discuss this _later_ . . . ?" said Ren, nodding towards Jenny. Nobody said anything from that point onward until Jenny left for school. They all said goodbye to her and reminded her that she might be alone when she got home after school.

"I wasn't able to get you a copy of our house key yet, Jenny," said Ren. "So I've enchanted the front door. If we are not home, it will open for you if you take hold of the knob and say, "Alohomora." Jenny kissed her father, her brother and Luna goodbye, and left for school early, hoping to see Owen in the playground before class began to see if he would speak with her.

Jenny made it to her school with about twenty minutes to spare before the first bell rang. She went to the playground and saw that it was just as packed with kids as it would be during recess. But if Owen Flynn was there, Jenny did not see him. It then occurred to Jenny that the last place that Owen would want to be at this moment was in the playground with the other kids. It would just give them yet another opportunity to make fun of him today without much adult supervision.

Jenny then decided to go to her classroom to see if Owen might be there, away from the other kids, waiting for class to start. But again, Jenny had no luck, and found herself alone in the classroom with the person that she had identified on her first day as the Quiet, Bookish Girl. The girl, (whose name Jenny remembered was Tonya,) did not acknowledge Jenny coming in, not because she was being stuck-up, but because she was so engrossed in what she was reading. Jenny glanced at the book's cover: "That Was Then, This is Now," by S. E. Hinton. Jenny saw a few more copies on the reading table, (along with two other books by the same author; "The Outsiders," and "Rumble Fish,") and picked up a copy to read for when she had to sit out Phys Ed on the bleachers when the other kids got to swim. (Or at least, pretend to read as she tried to think of a way to speak with Owen.)

When the bell finally rang and the other kids in her class began to dribble in, Jenny saw that Owen came in last, seconds before the last bell rang. _Anything to avoid contact with the other kids_, Jenny thought. Jenny tried to waive "good morning" to him, but Owen was not looking in any direction other than down. Down at his feet. Down at his desktop.

One thing that Jenny quickly discovered about Owen Flynn was that he was quite adept at avoiding other kids; not that Jenny could blame him considering the way she saw the other kids treating him. Jenny had no luck trying to talk to Owen at morning recess or lunch – she could not even find him on the playground.

Though Jenny was not able to speak with Owen, Tonya commented to her at lunch that she saw her take the book that morning, and asked Jenny if she had read "_The Outsiders_," too, and what she thought of it. When Jenny said that she had not read that book yet, Tonya recommended that she read it first so she would better understand the events in "_That Was Then, This is Now_." Jenny took Tonya's suggestion, and traded the book she was going to read for its prequel.

"I've already read "_The Outsiders_," of course," said Tonya. "And I just finished reading "_Rumble Fish_." But I'm re-reading "_That Was Then, This is Now_," to see if there was anything subtle that I may have missed. S. E. Hinton is one of my favorite authors, maybe even more than Judy Blume. Perhaps we can get together after school and talk about these books when you are done reading them, sometime . . . ?"

Jenny said that she would like that, reflecting that even a kid who preferred reading to outdoor play still needed companionship. Jenny then realized that it was her choice of what to read that allowed the chronically shy Tonya to work up the courage to break the ice with her; that she just could not come up and say, "Hello," to Jenny, otherwise without a pretext. Jenny knew that she would need some kind of pretext to get Owen to speak with her, too. But what . . . ?

When it was time for Phys Ed, Jenny sat on the bleachers in the high school's indoor pool as she waited for her classmates to come out of the locker room. As per Tonya's suggestion, Jenny brought "_The Outsiders_," with her to read. Though envious of the other kids who got to go swimming (even as Tonya had said at lunch that she was envious of Jenny, who got to _read _instead of swim,) at least Jenny had some time to herself to think about how she would go about asking Owen about what happened to him and his dad. But first, she would have to get him to talk with her, and Jenny knew that that would not be easy.

A few moments after she sat on the bleachers, the other kids began filing out of the locker rooms. Jenny pretended to read as she watched the boys came out of their door, hoping to see Owen. The new boy did not come out with the others, but came out a few moments after the main group; timidly taking the last place in the lines forming at the lanes on the side of the pool to Jenny's right. The girls did the same thing, lining up on the side of the pool to Jenny's left. Jenny thought that the girl's line looked a little short, and was proven right when, moments later, Lori, M'Kayla and Ashli came over to the bleachers in their street clothes and sat down next to Jenny.

"Forget to bring your swimsuits, too?" said Jenny, who did not want anyone in her class, much less _these_ three girls, to think that she did not even _have_ a swimsuit, yet.

"Oh, we, like, totally, brought swimsuits, OK," said Lori with a grin. "But Miss Sherman would not, like, let us wear them to swimming class."

"We brought _bikinis_ . . . ," said Ashli with a mischievous giggle as Jenny rolled her eyes.

"And Miss Sherman made us go back and change," added M'Kayla.

"But you knew that we have to wear one-piece swimsuits," said Jenny.

"Fer shurr," said Lori. "But there is, like, no way that I am, like, going to get my hair wet; especially after I got it combed just right!"

To Jenny's relief, the Three Stoogettes then ignored her and started talking among themselves about clothes, makeup, and the boys they saw in the High School's hallway on their way to the pool; boys who looked old enough to be their big brothers. Jenny tried to concentrate, dividing her attention between pretending to read her book and surreptitiously watching Owen. Jenny frowned as Chris tried to pull down Owen's swim trunks from behind, but broke off the attempt when Mr. Riker, the boys' Phys Ed teacher, walked by.

The last ten minutes of class were designated "free swim," and the kids cheered when the whistle was blown to announce that it had begun. Kids jumped in the pool and began splashing and having fun. A couple of them started a pick-up game of Marco Polo. The only one not joining in the fun was Owen, who sat at the edge of the pool in the shallow end, feet in the water as he periodically glanced at the clock on the wall, no doubt wanting gym class to be over and done with. Jenny tried to concentrate on what it would take to get Owen to speak with her, but was distracted by a shower of droplets and the shrieking of Lori and her pals. Moments later, Chris came over to the girls, dripping wet. "Hey, did you see me beat everyone when we swam laps?"

Lori smiled, and in a flirty tone said, "Hi, Chris . . . ." M'Kayla and Ashli giggled. Jenny said nothing, but she saw Chris swim. He _was_ fast, but Jenny was certain that Corey could give him a rough time if he were here.

Chris said, "Check it out: I told Mr. Riker that I needed to use the john, and while I was in the locker room, I moved Flynn's clothes to another locker, just like last time! It'll take him at least an hour to find them!"

Jenny was looking over at Mr. Riker, who was talking with Miss Sherman. Jenny wanted to go over and tell them what she heard. But she knew that even if it got Chris in trouble, it would go harder on her as well as Owen later. Jenny shook her head. If the boys' locker room was like the girls', then locks were not permitted. The visiting grade school kids had to pick an empty locker to put their stuff in. Chris had done this, before. But Owen would not be allowed a lock to keep it from happening again.

Chris continued, "Flynn thinks he's so smart, right? So, he moved his stuff to another locker before he came out, right? But I doubled-back and saw him. I saw him ask to go to the bathroom a little later. He probably wanted to be sure that his stuff was where he put it. But then I went back and moved his clothes again!

Jenny had to speak up. "It _isn't_ funny, Chris. Why don't you go back and put Owen's stuff in the _right_ locker?" But either Chris did not hear Jenny or he just ignored her. Jenny tried again to get Chris' attention, but the boy continued to ignore her. Jenny closed her eyes tightly, balling he fists in frustration. Before she knew what happened, Jenny saw a clear vision of Chris in the boys' locker room taking Owen's clothes out of the locker that Owen had moved them to before coming out to the pool. She saw Chris put them in another locker; locker 24B. The vision ended as abruptly as it began.

Jenny blinked. Her great-grandfather was a legilimens. Could she be one, too? Jenny heard the whistle blow, snapping her out of her ruminations. "Two minutes!" said Mr. Riker, his voice echoing off the walls of the pool. "Two minutes left before it's time to get out and change!"

Jenny moved slowly, closing her book, then got up and started walking slowly to the girls' locker room which, fortunately, was at the shallow end of the pool. Owen had gotten out of the water, and stood off to the side, waiting for the bell to blow again. Jenny shook her head. Less than two minutes left to swim before getting dressed and going back across the street to Stonewall for their Social Studies lesson. It occurred to Jenny that what was an unfairly short time for most of the kids in her class was an eternity for Owen Flynn. As Jenny came closer, Owen turned in her direction, fixing her with a hard, "leave-me-alone" look as her eyes met his. Jenny bit her lower lip. At least she had Owen's attention.

But before Owen could shift his gaze, Jenny said quietly, "Your stuff is in 24B, Owen. I heard Chris tell Lori that he _moved _your clothes to locker 24B . . . ." Jenny did not know if Owen had heard her, but before she got to the door to the girl's locker room, she saw Owen head to the door to the boys' locker room to be first in line when class ended and it was time to dress.

When Miss Sherman's class assembled in the hallway of the high school to get ready to walk back to Stonewall Elementary, Jenny saw that Owen was with the others and in his street clothes. The girls were in one line and the boys were in another line with Jenny and Owen heading up their lines.

Jenny wasn't sure, but just as Miss Sherman instructed the class to follow her back to Stonewall, Jenny thought that she heard Owen mutter, "Thanks . . . ." Jenny tried to talk with Owen when class was dismissed, but Owen broke into a run when he got outside, sprinting faster than Jenny thought he could move as he ran to his uncle's car.

Jenny ran home from school. When she got there, she put her hand on the doorknob and said, "Alohomora," as her father had told her, and the door unlocked itself. Jenny tried calling for her dad and Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood, but soon realized that she was home alone. Jenny promptly made herself a thick peanut butter and Daylesford Christmas Marmalade sandwich, and then helped herself to a banana and a big glass of chocolate milk. Then Jenny took her snack and went upstairs to her parents' room and saw that Corey was already waiting for her in the mirror. Jenny told Corey about what had happened during swimming class.

"A legilimens . . . !" said Corey. It was a statement, not a question. "Awesome! My mom's aunt is one, too! Did you tell your dad, yet?"

"Not yet," said Jenny, taking a big bite of her sandwich. "It might have been a one-time thing, and it's not exactly a violation of the Statute of Secrecy. Besides, I only need to report it if it happens again." Corey nodded. Since there was no test for legilimency, every wizard or witch with the talent was allowed "one free bite," as it were. The conversation quickly switched to what happened to Owen during swimming class.

"That Chris sounds like a real piece of work," said Corey as he rolled his eyes. "Do you think that he did it to impress those airheads that you had to sit with?"

"Probably," said Jenny. "But I think that Chris would have done it to Owen even if Lori and her gang weren't around."

"Lori is the one you told me about who is trying to look like Brooke Shields, right?" said Corey. Jenny nodded and Corey said, "I think she would get along well with a girl in my class named Kelly. And get this; Kelly even says she is _dating_ a boy in _Seventh Grade_!"

Corey went on to describe Kelly to Jenny, and how Kelly's hair was even longer and whiter than Lucius Malfoy's hair. _Probably bleached_, thought Jenny. "But she's allowed to _date_?" said Jenny incredulously. "And her boyfriend is in _Seventh_ Grade? What do her parents think about that?"

Corey shrugged. "They probably don't mind, seeing that she is almost _thirteen_ . . . ."

Jenny grinned. "Ah. I get it . . . ."

"She even got sent home once for coming to class wearing a top that showed her belly button!" said Corey. Now our teacher keeps an old sweater with her in case she tries that again."

"Well, Lori hasn't tried that, yet," said Jenny thoughtfully. "But it sounds like something that she or one of her Junior Bimbo Squad _might_ try." Jenny thought about bringing one of her dad's old sweatshirts to school for Miss Sherman to keep on hand in case Lori, M'Kayla or Ashli tried something like that. At least then they would not get a free day off school if they did.

"It's too bad we can't trade Kelly for you, Jenny," said Corey shrugging. "That way, we could be together and Lori could have a new member of her Bimbo Squad. How about suggesting it to your Principal? One Jenny Jordan for one Kelly Bundy . . . ?"

Jenny shrugged. "It's a good idea, Corey. But even if it could be done, you'd still be in Sixth Grade while I'll still be in Fifth." _And then next year, you will be in Junior High while I was at Randolph Carter. Or if dad has his way, Hogwarts . . . ._

"We made it work at Collinsport Elementary," Corey pointed out with a broad, eleven-year-old's smile. "But don't worry; you'll be seeing me again . . . soon."

"Tomorrow night in the mirror?"

"Tomorrow night," said Corey nodding. "But I'm coming over for a visit! Mom and dad have to work at the hospital and my mom asked your dad if I could come over for the weekend!"

Jenny squealed with delight. It was the first real good news that she had heard in a long time. Though it had only been for less than a week since she saw any of her old friends, it seemed like much longer. Corey said that he would be over tomorrow by the time she got out of school.

"I'll see you then, Jenny," said Corey. "And I . . . well, there is something that I have that I wanted to . . . well, give you for some time, now. I had planned to give it to you earlier but then the Incursion hit and I left it under my bed when we had to take off for Boston. But dad got it for me, and I want to give it to you when I see you tomorrow."

"What is it?" said Jenny, though she could guess Corey's answer.

"A . . . it's a surprise. You'll see when I come over!" After saying goodbyes that took a long time (mostly of the 'you end first' / 'no, you end first,' variety,) Jenny finished her sandwich and then called her friend Karen Minoru to fill her in.

"I think that I know!" said Karen. "I bet that Corey is going to ask you if you want to be his _girlfriend_! What will you say?"

Jenny thought about this. She had thought about her friendship with Corey a lot, lately. They had known each other since they first started school. Besides Karen, Jenny thought of Corey as her "best friend." Her best friend who just happened to be a boy. But as they got older, Jenny wondered what would happen to their friendship.

At the Displaced Wizard's Center, Jenny had been happy that Corey was there with her, especially after Karen's family left a few days after they arrived. A group of other kids that Jenny and Corey knew formed around them, and they spent the days playing together. Mostly, they played games in the empty hallways like 'hide and seek' and 'tag.' Sometimes they would play basketball outside, but that ended when the boy whose ball it was had to leave.

Of course, there was always 'Aurors and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.' But Jenny and Corey had not played that for a long time – the last time had been almost six months before the Incursion. It felt a little odd, after all, she and Corey were not little kids, anymore. But the others in her "team" were, and all that Jenny knew is that while she was pretending to be an Auror with a "wand" (and with Corey watching her back with his "plasma rifle,") she felt less nervous, and so did the other kids. Jenny asked her mom about it, and Aggie – switching to Full Teacher Mode - said that it was perfectly normal for older kids to play games like this in a situation like they were in. And that if Jenny felt a little self-conscious about it, that she should try to think of her and Corey as helping the little kids at the DWC cope by pretending to fight back against whatever came through from the Enchanted Realms.

Then, a few hours later, Corey asked her if she would like to eat with him at a table where it would just be the two of them. Jenny wondered if that had been her first official "date." She even asked Corey if he wanted to pretend that they were older and married, and to her relief and joy, he accepted the idea without any hesitation. He even held her hand when they went to get ice cream. But after they were interviewed by the Lovegoods and they went to Corey's family's room to watch a late movie before going to bed, Jenny was sure that Corey would try to kiss her goodbye when he left to go to his room across the hall. But he didn't. Sure, they had kissed, before. But somehow, a kiss under the mistletoe at Christmas time just didn't mean the same thing . . . .

"Well," persisted Karen. "What are you going to say to him . . . ?"

_If Corey does not ask me to be his girlfriend, then I will ask him if he would like me to be,_ thought Jenny. But Jenny said, "I – I don't know . . . ."

It was almost nine o'clock when Jenny's dad and Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood came back home with Luna and Ricky, who were both fast asleep. After putting them into their beds, Ren told his daughter to get to bed, herself. "I know that you have a lot of questions, Jenny. But you still have school tomorrow and it is way past your usual bedtime. Besides, if you spoke to Corey today in the mirror, then you know that he will be here tomorrow when you get home from school. I know that you will want to be awake for that!"

But Jenny had to ask about the Professor and Tammy, and if they were alright, and if she and Ricky would ever get to see them, again. Ren thought about it for a moment, and then said that he honestly did not know. Then he told Jenny that she needed to get to bed, as she had a big day ahead of her, tomorrow.

"But, daddy . . . ?"

"Sorry, Jenny. This is a "no if, and, or but," situation. I can't even say anything more to you about this until I am . . . allowed to – if ever."

Before Jenny could reply, Mrs. Lovegood said, "Jenny, Luv, we – your father, Mr. Lovegood and I, have been told by the FBS, the NSA, as well as the UK's Ministry of Magic and MI5 that we are to tell none of what we know to anyone else, much less publish it in _The Quibbler_."

"Furthermore," added Xeno. "When our involvement in this situation is officially over, we are to be questioned by a legilimens to see if we _have_ revealed anything to anyone else; possibly even _soulgazed_ if the authorities think that we are making any attempt at occlumency. Then, we are to be obliviated; our memories of the past week altered. All in the name of "security," of course . . . ."

Dori said, "So the less that you know, Jenny, the better."

"You mean that you can't write about it in your newspaper?" said Jenny.

"Sadly, no, Jenny," said Xeno frowning. But then Mr. Lovegood seemed to cheer up a bit. "Though we are not exactly going home empty-handed, mind you!" Mr. Lovegood smiled like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary as he held up an official looking document on muggle paper. "Look what _we've_ got!"

"I still cannot believe that MI5 actually presented _The Quibbler_ with a D-Notice, Xeno!" said Dori. "_The Quibbler_ must be the first Wizarding Publication to have ever received one! I know that _The Daily Prophet_ has never gotten one! Oh, we simply must have it properly framed and put on display in the print shop!"

"Of course the _Prophet_ has never gotten a D-Notice, Dori!" said Xeno dismissively. "Given the way they have been reporting the news as of late; they should get a special award for being a Loyal Ministry of Magic Lapdog!"

"You know, I remember this fine, antique picture frame in a small shop in Diagon Alley," said Dori. "I wonder if it is still there. It would be absolutely perfect!"

"A-are you in any trouble with the FBS, daddy?" said Jenny concerned.

Ren shook his head. "No, not really. I mean, the Aurors who spoke with us said that they wished we would have told them about meeting with Professor Roberts sooner, so they could have at least assigned someone to watch him from a distance to be sure that he stayed safe until we "officially" contacted them on the Professor's behalf. But they also said that we did everything that we were required to do by Wizarding Law under the circumstances."

Xeno added, "But the protocols for reporting the exposure of Our World to muggles did not take into account such Black Swan events like an Enchanted Realms Incursion of this magnitude, much less muggle science developing the capability to actually travel to the Enchanted Realms. If nothing else, those protocols – originally established for accidental observation of magic by muggles or for informing a future muggle spouse about the existence of magic - will probably need to be reevaluated."

Jenny shrugged. "So, what now . . . ?"

"Now . . . ," said Ren. "Now, we all get some sleep. We all have a big day, tomorrow. For one thing, the phone company will finally be sending someone over tomorrow morning to hook up our phone and give us our number. And as for you, young lady, you still have school and when you get home, Corey will probably be there to meet you."

Dori said, "And Mr. Lovegood and I will probably be going back to the UK, tomorrow night. We've done all that we can, here; especially now that we have been informed that we have no story to print." Then Dori smiled, adding, "We originally planned to leave during the day, while you are at school. But when we heard that Corey was coming over, we simply could not deny that dear, sweet boy another opportunity to win a staring contest with our Luna."

Jenny smiled. Corey would like that. She then said goodnight to her father and the Lovegoods, and went upstairs, making a stop in Ricky's room to gently kiss him goodnight, and then went to bed. If nothing else, tomorrow would be interesting . . . .


	16. Pieces of the Puzzle

**Chapter 16: Pieces of the Puzzle**

"Something on your mind, Preppie?" said Special Agent Juliet Lockhart to her trainee Tabitha Stephens. It had been Juliet's turn to cook lunch, and she had made tamales, Spanish rice, refried beans and taco chips with salsa, all from scratch. Cooking was something of a hobby of hers, and she had made the same dish for the two of them as a celebratory meal for when their MADS Network station was brought back online. It had been almost ten days since the new enchanted maps (that had been hardened to withstand the punishment of another, similar incursion,) had been delivered just a few days after the arrival of the 10-22-1983 Incursion from the Enchanted Realms had ended life in the Wizarding World as they had known it.

"Ma'am," said Tabitha. "There is something that I would like to talk with you about that I have had on my mind for the past couple of days, now."

Agent Lockhart had been expecting this; it was only a matter of _when_ her pretty, young trainee would give in to her inner groupie and work up the nerve to ask her. Agent Lockhart gave a weary sigh, rolled her eyes, and said, "Yes, Tabitha. _Gildroy Lockhart_ is related to me. He is my nephew. And, no, I will _not _introduce you to him. There is something about that boy that is not quite right. Besides, if you believe half of what they print in the gossip rags, he eats pretty little witches like you for breakfast."

"Actually, Ma'am, he really isn't my type," said Tabitha. _Besides, even if I _did_ want to meet him, my grandma told me that she had already spoken to Mr. Lockhart, and told him that if he _ever_ came within a hundred yards of me, that he would spend the next fifty years as a cockroach . . ._ .

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," said Agent Lockhart. "Shows me that you have a lot more good sense than I originally thought you had, Preppie."

"Well, you might not think that of me when I tell you what I have to say, next." Tabitha set down her fork, took a drink of Pepsi to moisten her suddenly dry throat, and said, "Do you remember when it was my turn to do the shopping a few days ago? Well, I also followed up on a hunch, and sort of made a little . . . side trip . . . ."

Now Agent Lockhart set down her fork, too, wiped her mouth with her napkin, and said in a chillingly (or so it seemed to Tabitha,) neutral tone, "Go on, please."

Tabitha told her Supervisor about her unauthorized visit to the Children's' Group Home in Boston, and about meeting the two children that had been found at a roadside diner on the night of the Incursion; a seven-year-old boy named August and a newborn baby girl named Emma, and what she found out when she spoke with the boy. Tabitha also described the clothes that the boy had been wearing when he was found, the boy's lost baby tooth, and the blood stains on the blanket that Emma had been wrapped in.

"I called in a favor with an old friend," continued Tabitha. "I sent the boy's tooth and some blood-stained threads from the blanket to a friend of mine who works at Quest Laboratories. Well, I got the results back this morning. For starters, my friend told me that there was no Strontium-90 in the boy's tooth; which means that the tooth came from someone who was born prior to 1945. But that is impossible, since the tooth still had live cells on it . . . ."

Agent Lockhart nodded. "Please go on."

"The blood on the blanket was not from baby Emma, thank G-d," said Tabitha. "According to my friend, analysis showed that it came from a man in his late 20's or early 30's; and that she had a really hard time typing it." Agent Lockhart nodded, and Tabitha continued. "Basically, it's O-Positive, or rather, O-Positive would _work_ if this poor guy needed a transfusion. But the surface antigens were not . . . _typical_ . . . ."

Agent Lockhart went to the phone and contacted FBS Headquarters, giving them a summary of what her trainee had told her. Then she set the phone back on the cradle, and said, "They want to speak with you in Salem, ASAP, Trainee Agent Stephens. You'll need to drive yourself to the Floo Hearth Station and go straight to FBS Headquarters.

"They are interested in what you found out, but know this: you _are_ in trouble - regardless of how useful what you have discovered may prove to be." Then Agent Lockhart softened a bit, and said, "I will not be able to go with you, Preppie. But I do wish you luck, and if they ask me my opinion of your performance, I intend to let them know that, despite what you took it upon yourself to do, that you definitely have the makings of a fine Auror."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

Agent Lockhart nodded. "I look forward to your return. Please don't disappoint me . . . ."

When Tabitha Stephens arrived at FBS Headquarters, she was instructed to go to a waiting room, where she was to remain until she was called. It never failed to amaze Tabitha how waiting rooms in Wizarding buildings were not too different from those in Muggle buildings. There were tables, chairs, vending machines and magazines that were months, if not years, out of date; though the magazines here included Wizarding publications as well as muggle ones. And she doubted very much that the vending machines in muggle waiting rooms sold Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans alongside Hershey Bars.

Fortunately, Tabitha did not have to wait too long before she was called. Less than fifteen minutes after she took a seat, Director DeMarigny's Secretary, Mrs. Marilyn Matheson, came in and asked Tabitha to follow her to the main conference room. Miss Matheson was an attractive blonde woman in her late 30's, and though Tabitha had never met the woman before, she knew who she was by reputation.

Before she was Director DeMarigny's secretary, Marilyn Matheson (nee Munster,) had made the news in the Wizarding World at quite a young age. She was born into an old, pureblood family, who were attempting to place her up for adoption when it was discovered that she was a squib. But before this could happen, her Uncle Herman and Aunt Lily stepped in and said that _they_ would adopt and raise her. "You don't throw away family," her Aunt Lily was quoted as saying to the reporter from the _Towne Scryer_. Later, when her cousin Edward was born, she became a virtual big sister to him; something that the boy really needed when it was discovered that he was a werewolf, and also faced ostracism within the Wizarding World.

Tabitha had read up on Marilyn Munster's story with great interest when she was told that for a short time, her little brother Adam was thought to be a squib, and that the local Witches' Council wanted him placed up for adoption, even though their father was a muggle. But before anything bad could happen, Adam did demonstrate magical abilities - though nothing anywhere close to those of their immediate family.

So while Tabitha had been educated at Hogwarts, Adam went to the local muggle schools, and received magical education at home. (Adam liked to joke to his sister that he had to take the "short broom" to his magic lessons.) But he did improve to the point that this coming June, Adam would be going to stay with a wizarding family in Brazil for a few weeks who would tutor him in magic over the summer break. Tabitha could not be more proud of her little brother.

Of course, Adam was not exactly her "little" brother, anymore; he was almost three inches taller than she was when she last saw him the day she returned home from Hogwarts. He was probably even taller than that, by now. But while Adam no longer worried that he would be a washout rather than a warlock, Tabitha knew that he was still nervous about the events of the past few weeks. Most people in their world were. But she did not realize just how nervous her brother was until her mom told her a few days ago that he had asked to be shown how to cast an _Avada Kedavra_ curse. And when their mom (and grandmother, and Uncle Arthur,) not only absolutely refused but managed to dissuade him from the idea; Adam then asked their muggle father if they could buy a gun and take shooting lessons together.

But if Tabitha's 13 year old brother was scared, then so were the wizards and witches of the FBS waiting in the conference room that she had just entered. And while Adam Stephens' fear was largely of the unknown, the fear of those in this room came from knowing too much.

The conference room was wood-paneled and simply furnished with a long, oak table and chairs. Brass nameplates on the table in front of each chair were enchanted to display the names of the people who sat in them. A large, crystal ball sat in the center of the table and a muggle stenographic machine was positioned at the place next to the Director's seat. Mrs. Matheson escorted Tabitha into the room and to her seat, and then the Director's Secretary took her seat next to Director DeMarigny, at the chair in front of the stenograph machine.

Tabitha quickly took stock of everyone at the table. There were the Addams siblings; Pugsley, who wore an expensive, handmade business suit, and his younger sister, Wednesday, in a classically-styled Gothic dress made by Free House Elves. Though Tabitha was considered to be very attractive herself by muggle standards, there were times that she envied Wednesday's Classic Wizarding World attractiveness. The Addams siblings' mother, the former Morticia Frump, had been a very famous fashion model in her younger days before marrying the dashing Gomez Addams. Tabitha felt very self-conscious sitting across from these two in her discount store-brand jeans and sneakers and a sweatshirt emblazoned with the crest of Hufflepuff House.

The famous Hadji Quest-Singh – the only known pureblooded wizard to be raised in a muggle family- sat next to her. Though his smile was friendly and supportive, he cut an imposing figure in his outfit proper for one of his faith following the Five K's. On Hadji's other side was his brother; the only muggle in the room. Though Tabitha had never met Dr. Johnathan Quest until now, she knew of him by reputation. The white-haired Dr. Quest wore a Brooks Brothers three-piece suit, but with a clean, tailored lab coat in place of the jacket.

As for the other three agents sitting at the table, she did not recognize them, but she did recognize the surnames of the two well-dressed wizards and the smartly-dressed witch on the brass plates in front of them: Halliwell, Garwin and Spellman. Though Tabitha did not take a look at her own name plate, she knew that the moment she sat down, the enchanted brass plate displayed the name "Stephens."

After a long, excruciating moment of silence, Director DeMarigny said, "Hello, Miss Stephens. You know, the last time I saw you; you couldn't have been any older than six. I was a field agent at that time and was assigned to investigate your violation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. Something about covering yourself and a muggle friend with polka-dots during a Christmas Eve sleepover . . . ?" Tabitha blushed as those around the table chuckled, though not mockingly.

"Sir, I would like to say . . . ," began Tabitha. But Director DeMarigny held up his hand for silence.

"I would ask you how your mother and grandmother are," continued Director DeMarigny. "But there is no need. I just saw them a few moments ago. Would is surprise you to know that your mother Samantha and your grandmother Endora are in the lower-level waiting room with your younger brother Adam and your father Derwood?"

"With all due respect, Director, my father's name is Darin . . . ."

"Darin . . . ?" said Director DeMarigny, clearly puzzled. "But your grandmother just told me . . . oh, never mind. In any case, they said that they want to see you after your evaluation hearing. And if I may be absolutely blunt, there is a chance that you may be going home with them. You are in trouble, young lady. Aurors have to follow orders. I'm sure that you know that.

"Now, your supervisor, Agent Lockhart, _did_ speak highly of you to us. She told us the basics of what you had done and what you found out as a result. We would like to hear what you have to say, in your own words."

"I was at the MADS station when I saw the first, small incursions before the Big One hit. When I read about the two children who were found on the night of the Incursion by the muggle police at a diner not far from where the smaller incursions were detected, I thought that it was worth investigating. And the children at the Group Home in Boston do correspond with the weight of what came through." Tabitha then described what she then did and what she found out. She described the children; the boy named August and the baby girl named Emma, and how she sent some samples he had collected to be analyzed at a muggle lab that did work for the FBS from time to time, and about the results she had gotten a few hours earlier that day.

Director DeMarigny nodded. "Miss Stephens, out of curiosity, why did you decide to become an Auror to begin with?"

"Well, Director," said Tabitha. "You see, the summer when I was fourteen, my brother and I went to stay with my dad's sister, Aunt Georgia, who runs a small circus. She's a muggle." Tabitha half expected to be cut-off for bringing up something that on the surface had to seem highly irrelevant. But she continued when this did not happen. "Anyway, my brother and I discovered that an evil wizard who called himself Count Krumley, wanted to steal the circus from my aunt, but we stopped him and saved our aunt's circus. Then we called the FBS and Krumley got taken away by Aurors. I understand that he is still doing time in Miskatonic Penitentiary. I guess that's when my interest in magical law enforcement really began."

Director DeMarigny said neutrally, "And it never once occurred to you to contact the FBS to report what you had discovered _before_ you put yourself and your then _eight-year-old brother_ in harm's way?"

"Well, I –"

"You decided to play "Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys" before calling the FBS," said Director DeMarigny. "Miss Stephens, this self-styled "Count Krumley" was a _joke_ as a dark wizard. Basically, he did not want to get his hands dirty; he only wanted the _spoils_ of getting his hands dirty. As a rule, the FBS does not run into too many "dark" wizards like Krumley.

"But what if he had been a little more ruthless and amoral, or was just afraid of getting caught? Do you think that a Hogwarts _Fourth Year_ and her _kid brother_ could have overpowered an _adult _wizard with more experience if he really wanted to hurt you?

"Let's get something straight from the start: a teenaged wizard or witch is no match for an adult wizard or witch; especially one who is desperate or power-hungry. Had Krumley been more than a joke, then you and your little brother may have found yourselves either dead or transfigured into something truly horrible; you and the muggle members of your family that you were ostensibly trying to help.

"We have to deal with threats like Baron Mordo, the late and unlamented Lord Voldemort, and possibly someone like Victor von Doom. And now we have the Incursion and Lord-knows-what is within it to deal with. If we are to do this, it is important for you and every Auror in the Bureau to follow their orders to the letter.

"Now, it would have been one thing if you went on a shopping trip for your MADS station and you saw something while you were on the way there or back or even when you were shopping in the store. But you deliberately _went out of your way_ to follow up on a dubious lead that FBS analysts had determined was no immediate threat. At least, no threat that we may be aware of . . . ."

"What do you mean, Director?" said Tabitha.

"Before you got here, we contacted the Group Home in Boston, hoping to speak with the boy to see if we could learn more. But they told us that he left the home the night before."

"You mean he went to a foster family?"

"No, we mean that he _left_," said Director DeMarigny. "He left – ran away, actually - with some other kids from the home that stole some money and hopped a bus. We tried a locator spell, but could not find him – Lord knows why we couldn't. My point is, if you are going to be the _Rogue Hippogryph_ who would rather beg forgiveness than ask permission; then you need to report whatever you find out as quickly as possible. But for now, anything that the boy could have told us is off the playing field.

"As for the baby girl, you indicated that you think she might be a witch. Right now, we just don't know. We will do what we can to keep tabs on Emma Swan to see if she demonstrates any magical abilities. But until we know that she is a witch for certain, she is out of our jurisdiction.

"Now, do you have anything else to report concerning this matter, Trainee Agent Stephens?"

Tabitha's spirits rose slightly. The Director did not address her as "Miss Stephens," this time. "No, Director DeMarigny."

"Then you may return to your duties at the MADS station where you are currently assigned and needed," said Director DeMarigny. "But first, you may go downstairs to tell your family that you will not be going home with them, tonight."

"Y-you mean that I'm still with the Bureau?"

"Of course you are," said Director DeMarigny. "But this will go on your record. So from now on, follow your orders and leave the threat assessment to those with more experience in matters like this; especially now when we are spread so thin due to the Incursion." Tabitha thanked the Director and the other Aurors, and left to see her family before taking the Floo Hearth back to Boston.

When Tabitha left, Agent Quest-Singh said, "Between Trainee Agent Stephens and those other two civilian wizards, I think it might behoove us to reevaluate our protocols. First, we lost Professor Roberts, and now we've lost the little boy who obviously came from the Enchanted Realms. And for some reason, all our attempts at locator spells are not having any effect.

"And I suppose that I am on Review now, too. After all, I am the one who advised you that the small incursions detected before the Big One hit were probably unrelated. Now, we may never know."

"As you say, Agent Quest-Singh," said the Director. "We will have to reevaluate the way we do things to take the incursion into account.

"Now, on the other matter from last night, I take it that you all have seen the memories of the two wizards that we interviewed yesterday - the ones who made First Contact with Professor Roberts?" When everyone nodded, Director DeMarigny said, "Well, what does everyone think?"

Agent Wednesday Addams said, "That witch in the memory has reasonable fashion-sense, but that scar is obviously fake. However, as for her _magical_ technique . . . I would not want to face-off against her or anyone else like her without plenty of backup; say, someone like the Sorcerer Supreme . . . ."

"I agree with my sister, Director," said Agent Pugsley Addams. "If whoever is within the Incursion has skills like the witch in the memory, then we are all in BIG trouble."

Director DeMarigny nodded. "Anyone else . . . ?"

Agent Spellman said, "I did some research on the spell that the witch in the memory used against that poor muggle. The Enchanted Heart Spell is a legendary technique that has been lost in antiquity. Until now, many wizards and witches would have told you that it was never actually a real spell, that it is just a fairy tale; something invented by Beedle the Bard or some other such storyteller. And up until now, I would have been one of them.

"Basically, what we have here is all three Unforgivable Curses all rolled into one. When you take a heart, you can use it to control its owner by speaking into it; the Imperius Curse. If you squeeze the heart gently, you can inflict severe pain on the victim; the Cruciatus Curse. And if you squeeze hard enough and crush the victim's heart to dust . . . ."

"Avada Kedavra . . . ," supplied the Director nodding. "In the course of your studies, Agent Spellman, did you happen to find any counter-curse against the Enchanted Heart Spell?"

"Not yet, Director," said Agent Spellman. "But I'm still looking. I haven't found anything in the FBS library or the library at Randolph Carter. I would like to request permission to go to Scotland to explore the library at Hogwarts. They have an extensive Dark Arts Restricted Section that may have more information. I'm even given to understand that they have a copy of the _Necronomicon_, but I'm handing in my resignation if you make me go anywhere near _that_ one!"

Director DeMarigny nodded. "See me later about that, Agent Spellman; I think that your request to go to Hogwarts may be arranged." Then, changing gears, the Director said, "Now, what can you tell me about the two wizards and the witch that we interviewed yesterday? The ones who made First Contact with Professor Roberts? Does anyone here think that they may potentially be a security problem? Let's start with the British Nationals. Anyone . . . ?"

Agent Wednesday Addams said, "Xenophilius and Pandora Lovegood publish a news tabloid with distribution mainly concentrated in the UK's Wizarding community called _The Quibbler_. They evidently fancy themselves to be our world's answer to Woodward and Bernstein. They are disappointed that they cannot publish what they found out about the Probe that was sent to the Enchanted Realms by Professor Roberts, but they seem to understand that by publishing what they know, they could easily start a panic."

"Fortunately," said Agent Pugsley Addams, picking up where his younger sister left off. "While the Lovegoods balked when told to withhold publication by the representative from the UK's Ministry of Magic, the muggle agent from MI5 was able to convince them by presenting them with something he called a "Defense Authority Notice" requesting their cooperation. The Lovegoods were as proud as peacocks when they got that! It seems to have bought their silence until they may be properly obliviated and their memories altered."

Director DeMarigny nodded. "What about Mr. Jordan? What do we know of him?"

Agent Halliwell took out a manila folder, opened it, and said, "Lawrence Jordan, AKA 'Rence Jordan, AKA Ren Jordan, is a 33 year old wizard. His family can trace its ancestry back to the Peverell family. No formal wizarding education. His previous contacts with the FBS are fairly typical. He was investigated by the Bureau when he was 10 for performing reflexive magic in front of muggles. At 13, he was cited for flying a broom in public. At 18, he received his Selective Service Notice from the Muggle Authorities, and contacted the FBS as he was supposed to do. He was subsequently reclassified from 1A to 4F.

"Then, at age 22, he reported that he revealed the existence of Our World to his muggle fiancée, Miss Agatha Price, and her family. They married shortly afterward, and had one daughter, Jennifer, currently age 10 – incidentally, she is the little girl who donated the seeing stone that she got for her birthday to the Bureau for the duration of the current crisis - and eight years later, a son, Richard, currently age two. Both the Jordans' children have magical potential."

"A seeing stone for a tenth birthday present?" said Director DeMarigny shaking his head. "And all I got for my tenth birthday was front-row tickets to a Patriots game . . . ."

After a round of polite chuckling, Agent Halliwell continued her report. "Until recently, Ren Jordan worked at the Collinsport Lumber Yard full time since he graduated from Collinsport Senior High School. He also repaired and made custom racing brooms in his spare time. A few weeks ago, the Jordan family had been among the evacuees from Collinsport, Maine, the evening of October 22. Now, the Jordans live in University City, Missouri, and Mr. Jordan will soon begin working at a local hardware store in the lumber department. Unfortunately, he will no longer be able to work on brooms because of where he lives. Also, he will not be able to use magic to make his family's life easier. For one thing, he will not be able to transfigure water into gasoline because he does not have a properly secured place outside where he may do this without the risk of being observed by his muggle neighbors.

"The bottom line is that the Jordans are on the brink of financial trouble. Even if Agatha Jordan, AKA Aggie Jordan, is able to resume work as a teacher, much of her extra income will probably go to daycare for Ricky, especially if their daughter goes off to Randolph Carter – or Hogwarts, if Mr. Jordan has his way - next year, and won't be on hand to watch her little brother after school.

"In addition, Mr. Jordan has recently submitted an application for his family to receive commodities – milk, eggs, and butter - from the local Shmoo Preserve. According to the Caseworker he spoke with, he is _very_ unhappy and embarrassed about having to do this."

Director DeMarigny turned to the Addams Siblings, and said, "Aren't the Jordans getting any help with their rent and relocation expenses from your parent's Philanthropic Organization?"

"That," said Wednesday flatly. "Is between the Jordan family and our parents' organization." The 'With all due respect, Director,' that should have come at the beginning of her reply was conspicuously absent.

Director DeMarigny let Agent Addams' lapse go, but persisted, "Bottom line, can we trust Mr. Jordan to keep silent until he can be obliviated? There is a lot of pressure on him to want this situation resolved as soon as possible, regardless of the danger that it may pose not only for the Wizarding World, but everyone else, as well. If he gets impatient, he may just try to make what he knows about the Incursion public. For that matter, shouldn't Mr. Jordan and the Lovegoods have been obliviated already?"

"We attempted to do so, yesterday," said Agent Garwin. "But, as you know, since the Incursion, the Bureau has been spread thin. Most of our Obliviators are working in the field. We had some Agents on loan from MiB to help fill the gap. But both Mr. Jordan and the Lovegoods insisted on being ". . . properly obliviated by a Wizard or Witch with a wand who knows what they are doing, instead of by a couple of Muggles pushing a button."

"That is their right," Agent Quest-Singh reminded the Director. "More to the point, even though I probably understand muggle science better than any wizard or witch here in this room, I would want my memories modified magically, as well. For that matter, if my brother ever had to have his memory modified," Hadji nodded to John, "I would prefer that a wizard or witch be the one to do it. I don't want to sound close-minded, by I really would prefer a wand to a muggle neutralizer for something like this any day!

"In any event, I do feel that the Jordans may be trusted to keep their silence. I met them at the DWC in Boston. They are good people – albeit good people who are worried about their safety and future. But they do not strike me as being desperate enough to compromise the security of Our World. The worse thing that Mr. Jordan might be tempted to do is some water-to-gasoline transfiguration in his unsecured back yard if he finds that there is too much week at the end of his paycheck."

"Still," insisted Director DeMarigny. "Financial pressure on the Jordans is a wild card that we cannot have in the equation. Are there any openings in the Bureau that Mr. Jordan could fill that would pay enough dollars and galleons to help the family financially?" _And to guarantee his silence . . . ._

Agent Pugsley Addams shrugged, and said, "Without a Formal Wizarding Education, Mr. Jordan does not meet any of the Bureau's current qualifications." Pugsley made a mental note to discuss the Jordans' situation with his sister. Perhaps their family could find Mr. Jordan better employment surreptitiously that would not make him feel like he was getting a handout . . . .

Director DeMarigny turned to his Secretary, and said, "Mrs. Matheson, I want you to try and find something here for Mr. Jordan to do. You said that Mr. Jordan works on broomsticks? Maybe a job in the Bureau's broom and carpet pool? In any case, for now I feel that we should keep an eye on the Jordans and the Lovegoods.

"Now, onto the final matter; is the Washington University Interdimensional Probe cause for concern? Presumably it or what's left of it is still in the Enchanted Realms. Do we have to worry about this?"

"I seriously doubt it, Director," said Dr. Quest. "Based on what we saw in the pensieve, I don't think that the people in the Realm the probe landed in can learn anything useful from studying the Probe. They look to be at a Late Middle Ages / Early Renaissance level of technology. They would be hard-pressed to reverse-engineer Edison's first lightbulb, much less the state of the art microchip circuitry in the Wash-U Interdimensional Probe. I think that we are safe as far as the Probe is concerned . . . ."

The Evil Queen looked at the drawings made by the Draughtsman Royal of the markings on the metal box from the road, the charred remains of which were now in her deepest dungeon. Fortunately, the markings were on the side facing away from her - and from her fireball. She then handed the drawings to the representative from the College of Heralds who she had summoned earlier in the day to see what he could tell her about the strange box and its origin.

The box was obviously a mechanical device of some kind, so the Queen initially summoned all the clockmakers who lived within a day's ride from the Castle, and set them to work on the mysterious object that had blocked her path the day before. The clockmakers had studied the device for the entire day, but all that they could determine was that the box looked very purposeful; even though its exact purpose could not be determined.

Though obviously assembled by Master Craftsmen with great skill, the box was severely plain. There were no decorative engravings on the strange, metal surfaces as one might expect from master metal workers, though the box had been precisely fitted together with screws that were absolutely identical in size and shape; many with slots for tools shaped like a "+" instead of a "-."

There were some gears and cogs within the box, (though none arranged as they would be in a proper clock,) that seemed to be for the purpose of moving the devices on the outside of the box in varying directions. Instead of clock springs, there were small cylinders with shafts connected to the gears that apparently drove them by means unknown. In any event, none of the clockmakers could determine what function these devices were for.

In addition to the high-quality metal, there was the other, strange material; much of it looking like candlewax that had been melted by the Queen's Fire. In feel, it resembled horn or tusk, but came in a variety of colors that would rival a rainbow. Some of the less damaged ones appeared to be fashioned in the shape of boxes that contained flat boards inlayed with thin copper lines in complex patterns in which small, strange trinkets of varying shapes and colors were set into by fine wire that came out of the trinkets themselves instead of being tied around them. Even more mysteriously, everything seemed to be connected by fine wire that went from box to box and to the devices that were mounted on the outside.

And at the very bottom of the box was an array of square containers filled with vitriol, connected to each other with thick wires covered with smooth material to lead nubs at each end. Other wires connected these containers to the other boxes. The clockmakers jumped when one of them touched two of the nubs on one container with a piece of metal, causing sparks to fly. Clearly, these containers were somehow enchanted.

That had been the initial report that the clockmakers gave to the Queen. After ripping out the heart of one of them and crushing it to dust, the Queen then sent the rest back to have _another_ look, demanding better answers by this time, tomorrow.

The Queen then turned her attention to the representative from the College of Heralds who was intently (and nervously) studying the drawings of the symbols from the side of the box. One was a blue oval with the word "DARPA" in white letters. Another was a circle with the words "Washington University in St. Louis 1853." A Coat of Arms in the center of this circle showed a Shield, gold, with three five pointed stars, green, as charges on the field and three Fleur- de-lis, green, as charges on the Escutcheon. In the Ordinary was an open book on two horizontal stripes, red, with the Motto, "Per Veritatem Vis." Another marking below this said, "Department of Physics." But the most mysterious of the markings was a rectangle with thirteen horizontal stripes; seven red and six white, and a blue canton in the upper left hand corner that was decorated by a field of fifty white five-pointed stars.

Scowling, the Queen fixed the Herald with a stony gaze and said, "Well . . . ?"

"Y-Your Majesty . . . ," began the Herald nervously. Though members of the College of Heralds had more freedom than most in the Enchanted Realms when addressing royalty, the reputation of the Queen – the _Evil_ Queen – was too well known. "Your Majesty, I must confess that I have no knowledge of the Coat of Arms displayed in this drawing. I can find nothing matching it in any of our records, nor am I aware of a place of learning called "Washington University in St. Louis," or the significance of the number "1853." Though the rectangular banner is obviously a flag of some sort, it is likewise not registered in any of our tomes on vexillology. And I have absolutely no idea what a "DARPA" may be."

The Queen's scowl became even more severe. Her eyes widened and a single vein stood prominently on her forehead as she took another step toward the Herald and began reaching slowly for his chest with her right hand. The Herald quickly added, "Your Majesty, it is my opinion that this Heraldry is not from a place native to our Realm. It comes from somewhere else. If I may ask, what is the provenance of these drawings . . . ?"

"The provenance," said a childish, sing-song-y voice from off to the side. "The provenance is a Land Without Magic!"

The Herald gasped. "T-the . . . The D-Dark One!"

The source of the voice, an ugly imp with skin like gold scales, smiled an ugly smile and bowed sarcastically. "That's my name, my good man! Don't wear it out!"

"Shouldn't you be in your cell, Rumpelstiltskin?" said the Evil Queen dryly. "In case you haven't realized yet, I have a situation on my hands."

"Precisely the reason I am here, Regina!" The imp laughed his irritating laugh. "To help you resolve your "situation."

"For a price, no doubt," said Regina dryly.

"Oh, everything comes with a price, Dearie! But, as luck would have it, what I may be able to tell you of this shall we say, "unusual object," is covered under our _current_ agreement."

"How's that?" said the Queen warily.

"Let's have a looksee, shall we?" The Dark One waived his hand, and he and the Queen were enveloped in a swirling, red smoke. When the smoke cleared, they were in the dungeon room where the clockmakers were studying the object. The clockmakers froze with fear when the two most powerful practitioners of magic in all the Realms suddenly appeared in the dungeon. But before any of them could say a single word, the Dark One waived his hand yet again, and the clockmakers were enveloped in red smoke, and vanished from the room, leaving the Dark One and the Queen alone with the object.

"What did you do to them?" said Regina. "Did you destroy them?"

Rumpelstiltskin made a slightly nervous laugh. There was something about the way that the Queen said the word "destroy" that could send a shiver up even _his_ spine. "Ah, actually, I sent them all back to their homes and workshops."

"What?"

"We don't need them, Dearie. Besides, I have something of an affinity for clockmakers, or rather, for the clocks that they make. But that is neither here nor there. The matter at hand is this . . . whatever this may be. Now, let's see what it may be able to tell us, shall we?"

Again, the Dark One waived his hand and the object was surrounded in a swirl of red smoke. When the smoke cleared, the square object had taken the shape of a metal globe that spun slowly in mid-air before them. A bright red light glowed in the middle of a continent on the globe's Northern Hemisphere, just west of a long river. "Voila! A Land Without Magic!"

The Evil Queen studied the globe. She did not recognize any of the continents. Clearly, it was another world in another realm. But she remained unimpressed. "So . . . ?"

"So, Dearie, have you forgotten what you still _lack_ if you are to cast the Dark Curse?"

"The heart of the thing that I love the most," said the Queen impatiently. "I already know that."

"Ah. And one more little something . . . ."

"_What_ one more little something . . . ?"

"Oh, a little something known as a _destination_," said the Dark One. "If you are to cast a curse that will take the kingdom elsewhere; you will _need_ an elsewhere to go to. And now, you have one. What do you think . . . ?"

Regina studied the globe of the alien world. It was as good a place as any to find her elusive Happy Ending. She pointed to the red light on the globe; ostensibly the origin of the strange metal box. "I do not like being landlocked. Do we have to go where the light glows?"

"You may instruct the Dark Curse to take you _anywhere_ on this world that you see fit, your Evil Queen-ness! How about . . . here?" The imp pointed casually to a place high on the continent's Eastern Seaboard.

The Evil Queen nodded slowly. "I suppose that it will do – so long as I get what I want!"

"Oh, indeed you will, Regina," chuckled the imp. "Indeed you will!" _And I shall have what I want, too. Fear not, Bae! I am coming to find you . . . ._


	17. The Lunch Club

**Chapter 17: The Lunch Club**

Though it had taken Jenny Jordan a while to fall asleep the night before, she woke up a little earlier than usual, feeling fully refreshed. No matter what may happen today at school, (that is, whether or not she could finally get Owen Flynn to speak with her,) it would be a good day. For one thing, it was Friday – her first Friday since she began going to Stonewall Elementary. Their telephone would be connected by the time she got home from school, so she would be able to talk with her mom for the first time in days. And lastly, but certainly not least, she would see Corey again for the first time in a week, and he would be staying over until Sunday evening!

Jenny's dad had promised her that they would even get out of the house while Corey was visiting. Though money was short, the local Zoo in Forest Park was world-famous and did not charge admission. There were other things nearby to do as well. According to a brochure her father had picked up earlier, there was a Planetarium, (but it had been recently closed for remodeling,) an Art Museum and a local History Museum. There would be plenty to do. And then, there was the "something" that Corey had said that he wanted to give her and something that he wanted to tell her . . . .

Jenny could hardly wait.

After getting dressed and eating breakfast, Jenny kissed her dad, her brother, and Luna goodbye and headed off to school early. Jenny bypassed the playground, and went in by the front door directly to her classroom, hoping that Tonya would be there. Sure enough, the Quiet Bookish Girl was already at her desk, rereading "Rumble Fish," this time. But today, she noticed Jenny the moment she came into the classroom. "Hi, Jenny! Did you get to read any of "The Outsiders," yet?"

"I didn't really get a chance, yet," said Jenny. "My family is still settling into our new house." Jenny felt guilty about the last part, which was a lie. Her family pretty much got settled in the day they came. It wasn't exactly like they had a lot of stuff to get organized, after all . . . .

"Maybe you could come over to my house, tomorrow?" said Tonya. "You could start on "The Outsiders" tonight and we can talk about it tomorrow morning or afternoon?"

"I'd like that," said Jenny. Then, seeing Tonya's face light up like a Christmas tree, she quickly added, "But I have a guest coming over from my old neighborhood who will be staying for the weekend. Maybe we could do it next Saturday? I'll probably have "The Outsiders" completely read by then. Would that be alright?"

"Absolutely!" said Tonya. Jenny knew that she would have to keep that day open; come hell or high water. If anyone else in Miss Sherman's Fifth Grade Class needed a friend after Owen; it was Tonya. It occurred to Jenny that if Owen suffered from too much attention, then Tonya suffered from too little. Then Jenny had an idea. Though the change-in-subject was pretty abrupt, Jenny asked Tonya, "So, why do the other kids make fun of Owen Flynn?"

Tonya closed her book, and said, "Are you trying to make friends with Owen? I mean, it would be good if _someone_ can do it. I tried to do that, myself, when he first got here about a week before you came. But I couldn't get him to come out of his shell. He just kept talking about his mom dying and his dad being taken away by space aliens, or something."

"Wait, _space aliens_?" said Jenny raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean, Tonya? Aliens like in that TV show "Galaxy Quest?" Or like that one shown earlier this year where these people came in these big flying saucers and they looked like us but talked kind of funny and were really lizards and the alien commander dislocated her jaw and ate that guinea pig, or something . . . ?"

Tonya's eyes met Jenny's as she pondered her answer. What Jenny said sounded pretty much like what some of the other kids asked Owen when he told them about what happened to his father. But while their questions were accompanied by broad grins and mocking laughter, Jenny's tone was serious and subdued. It was like Jenny really was looking for answers, but did not know precisely how to phrase her question.

Tonya knew what it was like to be made fun of. But Tonya, (who by now knew when some kid was about to make fun of her even before _they_ knew that they were about to make fun of her,) knew that Jenny was being _serious_ and, more to the point, concerned for Owen.

"I don't know, Jenny," admitted Tonya. "I don't exactly watch a lot of TV. But, I guess like in "War of the Worlds" by H.G. Wells? I read that one back in Third Grade. Or maybe like in those Tripod Stories by John Christopher; like "The White Mountain?" Have you read any of those?"

Jenny shook her head. Tonya continued. "Last Saturday, I had my mom drop me off at the big library up on Lindbergh. I told mom that I had to do some research for school; which wasn't exactly a lie, since Owen _is_ in my class at school. I went through all the newspapers from Maine and Massachusetts from October 22, to the present, and looked for whatever I could find about Owen and what happened to him. I had to use the actual papers, since they were too new to be on microfilm. It took me a long time to wash the newsprint off my hands afterwards . . . .

"Anyway, what I found out is that Owen and his dad went camping in Maine and Owen was found wandering the road a few days later by the police. Owen told them that his father was being held prisoner in a town called Storybrooke by the mayor, a woman named Regina Mills. But there is no town called Storybrooke in Maine, nor is there anyone in Maine named Regina Mills. Owen led the police to where he said his father had been arrested by the mayor and the town sheriff, but there was nothing there but woods and farmland."

"What do you think happened, Tonya?"

"I don't know," said Tonya with a sigh. "I mean, it is the same thing that Owen told me. So his story _is_ consistent. But the articles in the papers said that the police made an extensive search of the Maine woods where Owen said that he and his father went camping, and could find no trace of the Flynn's campsite, much less a town called Storybrooke."

"C-could it have been aliens?"

"Of course not," said Tonya dismissively, but not impolitely. "Personally, I've narrowed it down to two theories. First, maybe Owen and his father went camping and his father had had an accident and was seriously hurt or even killed. Owen went to get help, but was so traumatized by what had happened that he made up the story of the invisible town as a kind of defense mechanism to deal with the trauma. But the big hole in _that_ theory is that the police and local volunteers - including the National Guard and the Boy Scouts - _thoroughly_ searched the woods, and could find no trace of the Flynn's campsite, or anything."

"And what is your second theory?"

Tonya sighed. Even though she and Jenny were the only two people in the classroom, she lowered her voice to barely a whisper, and said, "I think that Owen's dad may have . . . _ditched_ him and ran off with his . . . _girlfriend_; probably this Regina lady that he keeps talking about. Owen may have unconsciously made up this Storybrooke place as a way to deal with being abandoned. Now, this is just my personal theory, and I hope to G-d that I am wrong; but it is the simplest explanation of what happened to Owen in my opinion . . . ."

The first bell rang, and kids began filing into the classroom, hanging their coats up and putting their lunchboxes away before taking their seat. "Let's have lunch together," said Tonya. "We can talk more at recess after we eat." Jenny said that she would like that, and then took her seat as she watched the other kids come in. As usual, she saw Owen Flynn come in at the last second, just before the Tardy Bell rang.

Class seemed to drag on and on. When morning recess finally did come, Jenny and Tonya tried looking for Owen. But the boy was nowhere to be found anywhere on the playground. So the girls planned on sitting next to each other at lunch to make plans for next Saturday when the first meeting of the Jennifer/Tonya Book Club would take place.

When lunchtime finally rolled around, Jenny and Tonya stood in the cafeteria line a few kids behind Owen. Though it was a chilly day outside, between the heat coming from the kitchen and the fact that the kids wore their coats so they would have them when they went outside to play after they ate, Jenny felt like she was in a hothouse. But in spite of the heat, Tonya looked happy. Tonya had explained to Jenny that though she usually brought lunch with her, she liked to buy her lunch on Fridays, when the cafeteria served the best meal of the week.

Because Stonewall Elementary had a large Catholic population, a fish sandwich was offered as one choice with a (mystery) meat dish served for the second. Tonya, though Protestant herself, recommended the fish sandwich to Jenny, which in her opinion was at least as good as the one served at McDonalds or Burger King.

But before Jenny could reply, there was a commotion just ahead of them and Owen Flynn was at its epicenter. For some reason, Owen was crying and broke out of the line. He staggered to a trashcan, and threw-up in it amid a chorus of laughter, taunts, and kids saying, "EEEEWWWW, GROSSSS!" Then Owen wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his coat, and stormed up the steps leading out to the playground, ignoring the lunch room monitor's calls to come back.

Before Jenny knew what was happening, she realized that she was running after Owen as the lunch room monitor then called for her to stop, as well. When Jenny got to the top of the stairs, she could see that Owen had already made it halfway across the empty playground, running to its far corner to his left where a chain-link fence separated the school playground from a neighborhood of small houses. Then Jenny saw Owen slip through a small gate in the fence that she had not noticed before.

Though Jenny was vaguely aware of several adult voices calling from behind her, she slipped through the fence after Owen had gone through and found herself in the back yard of one of the homes. With Owen nowhere in sight, Jenny saw another open gate that led to the front of the house. Jenny ran through the gate just in time to see Owen heading in the direction of a small park that she had seen when her family was driving around the area the first day they arrived.

Though Owen Flynn was definitely not the athletic type, Jenny was having trouble keeping up with him, much less closing the gap between them. If anything, Owen was actually pulling _away_ from her. Jenny could imagine that Chris or even _Corey_ would have had trouble keeping up with Owen right now. _He's running on pure adrenaline_, thought Jenny as she struggled to keep Owen in sight. Now the boy charged across the street without bothering to check both ways first. Fortunately, no cars were coming from either direction, and Jenny followed him as fast as she could. Owen ran across a small field with a baseball diamond, and headed straight towards a small playground with a stone pavilion that provided shade and bathroom facilities.

_What will I do if he runs into the boys' restroom?_ thought Jenny. _For that matter, what will I say to him if I do manage to catch up with him?_ A second later, the first question became moot when Owen suddenly stopped and then wheeled around to face Jenny.

"WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?!" screamed Owen.

Jenny jolted to a stop, and before she could think of anything to say, blurted out, "WHY ARE YOU _RUNNING_?!"

For a long moment, the two Fifth Graders stood looking at each other as they caught their breath. Owen looked at the new girl who had not made fun of him like the others in class and had even helped him the day before when Chris tried to hide his clothes in another locker during swimming lessons. Owen could see concern for him on the new girl's face – a pretty face framed by dark hair in a pixie cut that would probably be even prettier if it were not flushed from running three blocks away from school grounds.

Again, Jenny said, "Why are you running, Owen? What happened to you in the lunch line?"

"None of your business!" said Owen. "I ran 'cause I felt like it, OK? NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Jenny replied, "I get that you don't want to go back to school, now, Owen. But I saw a cop car coming around the corner just before we got into the park. We've got to get out of sight before they see us and bring us _both_ back to school."

Owen looked at Jenny skeptically. "Where?"

"In that dumpster behind the pavilion! But we've got to go there _now_, or we _will_ be spotted!"

Without saying another word, Jenny and Owen ran to the side of the pavilion where there was an old, metal dumpster with hinged, plastic lids. Fortunately, some Bad Citizen had dumped some old tires next to it, and this made it possible for the two children to climb into the dumpster to get out of sight. Also fortunate was that the dumpster was empty of garbage since few families had picnics in winter, even under a covered pavilion.

"Close the lid!" said Owen.

"No, leave it _open_," said Jenny. "If the cops drive by and see the dumpster lid open, they would not think to look for us in here!" Owen nodded. It was a good point, if nothing else. Then moments later Jenny and Owen heard footsteps and the sounds of voices on a radio. Both kids froze until the sounds faded away, but it would be another few minutes before they could breathe a sigh of relief. "We'd better stay in here for a while, Owen," whispered Jenny. "There are bound to be more people looking for us, soon."

Owen said, "So, why did you follow me? Are you some kind of maniac, or something?"

"I am from Maine," said Jenny evenly. "But we prefer to be called "Mainers;" not "Maniacs." I know that you are originally from New Jersey, right? So, if you don't call me a "Maniac," I won't call you a "Guido." Do we have a deal?" Owen nodded and Jenny continued. "So, now will you tell me why you ran away from school?"

"I – I smelled the . . . _lasagna_ . . . and I . . . I . . . . It was what _she_ fed us before she took my dad! It made me sick to my stomach! I just couldn't take it! I had to get out of there, _fast_ . . . !"

"S-slow down, Owen," said Jenny calmly. "Someone took your dad? Who took your dad?"

"R-Regina . . . ," said Owen sniffling. He pulled the top of his undershirt over his face to wipe it, and continued. "Her name is Regina Mills. She's the Mayor of Storybrooke. That's the town my dad and me went camping near a few weeks ago. It was a big town, but nobody seemed to have heard of it. You're from Maine. Have you ever heard of a town called Storybrooke . . . ?"

Jenny shook her head. "No, Owen. And I've lived in Maine all my life. I'm originally from a town called Collinsport. Have you ever heard of Collinsport?"

Owen nodded, and told Jenny that he saw it on the map that he and his father used to find their campsite. "We were trying to get to the highway to hitch a ride into Collinsport after a big storm made a tree fall on our truck the night before. But that's when we saw Storybrooke.

"It was really _weird_. We drove through woods the day before and we never saw Storybrooke on our way to the campgrounds. It wasn't there the night we got there and then it was suddenly there the next morning! It was like something from out of "The Twilight Zone." Anyway, when we got into the town, things got even _weirder_ . . . .

Owen told Jenny about how he and his father walked into Storybrooke and about how they met Regina Mills, the Mayor of the town that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. At first, Regina was not too happy to see them in her town; especially after Owen had sat in "Her Seat" at the lunch counter of the local diner that evening. But when Owen gave Regina a keychain lanyard that he had made the day before as thanks for letting him sit in Her Seat, her opinion of Owen and his father seemed to change, so much so that she actually invited the two of them over to the Mayor's Mansion for dinner a few nights later.

"And that's when this Regina made the lasagna for you and your dad," said Jenny; a statement not a question.

"Yes," said Owen softly.

"What happened next, Owen?"

"Well, like I said, Regina seemed really nice at first. I told her about my mom passing away earlier in the year, and how the kids at my old school treated me really weird afterwards. But Regina really seemed to understand. She said that it's like a piece of your heart is missing.

"Then Regina said that if we wanted to, we could stay in her town. She said that I could go to the local school, and that she could even get my dad a job with the town. She said that we could have a fresh start. But dad said that we had to go back to Jersey. So we got our truck back from the repair shop and we were going to go back home, but dad wanted to stop and say goodbye to Regina.

"Anyway, we stopped off at the Town Hall and dad said that he would just be a minute and that I should wait in the car. But then a few moments later, he came running out all scared like and we sped off like we were the Dukes of Hazzard with Regina and the Sheriff hot on our tail. We thought that we lost them at one point. But then they came out of nowhere just before we could cross the town line.

"My dad told me to run and get away. I didn't want to leave him, especially when I saw the Sheriff arrest him. Dad told me to run again, and then I . . . I - I ran and didn't stop until a police car came and I waved for them to stop. I told the policemen what happened, but when they drove me back to where Storybrooke was, it was gone like it was never there. The policemen said that there was no town anywhere in Maine called Storybrooke . . . ."

"Is that when you came to Missouri to live with your uncle?" said Jenny.

Owen wiped away tears and nodded. "I told everyone what had happened, but nobody believed me. But it _did_ happen! My dad was taken away by that Regina lady!

"You know what, Jenny? I think that the people of Storybrooke may be aliens from outer space or another dimension. I mean, the town looked like a normal seaside town, but the more I think about it, the less normal it seemed."

"What do you mean, Owen?" said Jenny seriously. "How did the town not seem normal?"

"Well, for one thing, everybody was doing the same things every day. They said the same things and did the same things, but not quite like a carbon-copy of what they did and said day before. It's hard to explain. It was like the day kept repeating itself but people would dress differently and do things differently.

"It was most noticeable in the mornings. Like when dad and me went to the diner for breakfast every morning that we were there waiting for our truck to be fixed, this waitress was always arguing with the old lady who ran the place about being put on the early shift. The old woman would always tell the waitress, who was her granddaughter, that when she put over-easy on the menu, that she was talking about the eggs, whatever _that_ meant . . . .

"But it was the same thing every morning. Then there was this old guy up on a ladder fixing a sign, and this guy walking a dog, and this really creepy looking guy in an expensive suit with shoulder-length hair walking with a cane. And that's not all. When me and dad first met Regina, dad told her that we were from New Jersey, the home of The Boss - you know who The Boss is, don't you, Jenny?"

"Duh," said Jenny rolling her eyes. "Bruce Springsteen. My dad listens to him all the time. He always plays "_Born To Run_" on his tape deck whenever we go on the highway."

"Well get this; _Regina Mills_ didn't know who _Springsteen_ was! There was lots of other stuff, too. And when dad and me were trying to drive out of town and lose Regina and the Sheriff, he told me that Regina was controlling the Sheriff by talking into some kind of red crystal. It didn't make any sense at the time, but the more I think about it, the more I think that everyone in Storybrooke are really aliens from another world.

"Like on, "Galaxy Quest?" said Jenny evenly. "Or that show that was on earlier this year about the aliens in the big flying saucers who were really lizards?"

"That show was called "V," said Owen, looking down at his hands folded in his lap. "I remember watching it with mom and dad. It was the last show on TV that we ever saw together as a family before mom died." Owen looked up at Jenny. "You know what, Jenny? Regina Mills actually reminds me of the Alien Commander on that show. You know; the one who called herself "Diana," and who ate that guinea pig in one gulp when we first saw that they were really lizards disguised as humans."

Jenny nodded. She had seen that scene with Karen and Corey. When the alien commander ate the guinea pig, she and Karen shrieked with disgust, proclaiming it to be a total gross-out. But Corey thought that it was kind of cool . . . . _Boys!_ thought Jenny.

"Nobody would listen to me when I told them that," said Owen. "Well, almost nobody. I did speak with a reporter from the "National Enquirer." Then a short time after that, this man called on the phone and asked to speak with me. He said that his name was Mr. Vincent, and asked me if I noticed anything strange about everyone's hands in Storybrooke. Something about their pinky fingers sticking out. When I told him that their hands looked normal, he seemed relieved and wished me luck, but said that he couldn't help me and I never heard from him again."

Jenny nodded sympathetically, and decided to go for broke. "Owen, I think that I have an idea about what might have happened to you and your dad." Owen looked up sharply at Jenny – a sharpness that quickly gave way to perplexity, for as he studied Jenny's face for signs of mockery, he could see none.

"What?" said Owen intently.

Jenny took a deep breath to collect her thoughts, and said, "First, let me tell you _why_ my family had to leave Collinsport, Maine, at a moment's notice. It will make what I have to tell you easier to understand. But first I have to have your word that you will listen to me with an open mind until I am done because what I have to say may sound unbelievable at first. But if you let me, I can prove _everything_ that I say. All I ask is that you give me the same courtesy that I gave you when you told me about your dad. Do we have a deal?"

Owen did not even hesitate before he nodded and said, "We do."

Now it was Jenny Jordan's turn to speak, and she told Owen about how her mom and dad woke her up on the evening of Saturday, October 22, and Owen's eyes widened when he realized that that was the same date that he and his father went camping – and the day before they found Storybrooke.

"We got the call to evacuate around ten o'clock that night," said Jenny, her eyes meeting Owens. "My family - and other families like us - were told to get as far away from Collinsport as we could and to meet up at this old, abandoned hotel near Boston."

"What do you mean by, "families like us," Jenny?" said Owen slowly.

_It's crunch time_, thought Jenny. _It's now or never . . . but how . . . ?_ "Owen . . . my family . . . my dad and my little brother and me can . . . we can do _things_ \- things that might seem hard for you to believe are possible. So can a lot of people that we knew in Collinsport. And we had to leave so . . . the _others_ who just . . . came near Collinsport from elsewhere wouldn't know that we were here – are here, too . . . ."

"These others you are talking about," said Owen. "Do you think that they are they the same people who took my dad?"

"I'm sure that they are, Owen."

"What . . . _what are you and your family, Jenny_," said Owen. "And what kind of "things" can you do?" Owen leaned forward and gave Jenny a look that was . . . sympathetic? Understanding? Reassuring? Jenny did not know. Owen continued. "Jenny, are you and your dad and brother . . . _mutants_? Do you have special powers and stuff?"

"Huh?" said Jenny. "No, we are _not _mutants. I mean, I wouldn't be _ashamed_ if I was and I would tell you if I was a mutant. But I'm not. I can do things – not like my dad can. It usually starts when . . . one of us is about my age. But it will be a while before I can control what I do better. My dad can do all kinds of things, though; especially if he uses his wand . . . ."

Owen's eyes widened. "Wait, his _wand_? What are you talking about? What are you saying?"

Jenny took a deep breath, and said, "Owen, I am a _witch_. My father and my little brother are _wizards_. My mom is a muggle, like you –"

"What?"

"We had to leave Collinsport – there are a lot of wizarding families that live in Collinsport – used to live in Collinsport. Before the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms forced us to leave so they wouldn't find out about us –"

Owen stood up abruptly, his feet making banging echoes inside the dumpster. He looked hard at Jenny, who stood up slowly. When she got to her feet, Owen backed away from her as far as he could, his back pressing against the inside of the dumpster. "Y-you're making fun of me! I _knew_ it! You really had me going there for a while! I really thought that you cared, or something!

"Who put you up to this? Was it Lori and her skank friends? Or Chris? I bet it _was_ Chris. That's how you knew what locker he hid my clothes in!"

"No, Owen. I'm not with any of them! I do care about you! I saw what locker Chris hid your stuff in because I saw him do it in . . . in his _mind_! I also got your keychain from those kids the first day I got here! I – I pulled it out of the air when they were playing keep-away! I just got so mad seeing them treating you that way that I . . . I took it from them and gave it back to you!

"I'm not making fun of you, Owen, I swear to G-d I'm not! And I'm certainly NOT friends with Lori, M'Kayla, Ashli or Chris! I can't stand those dweebs! And besides that, by running after you, I'm in just as much trouble as you are in when we get back to school. Would I risk something like that if I just wanted to make fun of you? _Well_ . . . ?"

"I guess not . . . ," said Owen in a softer voice.

"And I'm telling you the truth about me being a witch and my dad and brother being wizards."

"What about your mom? Is she a witch, too?"

"No, Owen, my mom is a muggle, like you are," said Jenny, who then quickly added, "A muggle is someone who cannot do magic. Most people in the world are muggles. Even most mutants and meta-humans are muggles – mostly. That's because their powers don't come from magic, like ours do; like mine will in a year, or so."

"So you can't do any magic yet. That's convenient."

"But I already _did_ magic. I got your keychain back and I saw the number of the locker your clothes were moved to in Chris' mind. I just don't have much _control_ over my magic yet. But next year, when I'm eleven, my dad will get me my first wand and I'll be able to do much more."

"Then how come you were able to use magic with my keychain lanyard and my clothes?"

"Because I got mad and frustrated by the way the other kids were treating you. Not just by what Chris and Lori and he friends were doing to you, but the other kids who played keep away with your keychain, or laughed at you when someone else did something to you. A kid my age can only usually do magic if they are scared or frustrated or feeling some other strong emotion."

"Prove it," said Owen.

"I – alright, Owen," said Jenny firmly. Help me out of this dumpster and let's go over to the swings."

When the two kids got to the swings, Jenny sat on the nearest one and asked Owen to give her a push so she could get going. Owen said, "Alright, I believe that you are not doing this to get in good with Lori and M'Kayla and Ashli. But this isn't some kind of trick to get me to push you on the swing like I was your _boyfriend_ or something, is it? You're not one of those girls that want a boyfriend to carry your books and hold hands with?"

"No, Owen," said Jenny. "You want a demonstration of my powers, and I'm going to show you one. But I need a push to get going."

Owen sighed and took the swing from where the chains attached to the seat. Even though Jenny was wearing her coat, there was no way that Owen Flynn would ever touch some cootie-infested girl, no matter how nice she was. "You sure that this isn't a trick to try and make me your boyfriend?"

"I promise, it isn't," said Jenny as she pumped her legs to go higher and faster. "Besides, I already have a boyfriend, sort of . . . ."

"Let me guess," said Owen dryly. "He lives in Canada."

"He _lived_ around the block from me in Collinsport," said Jenny, her voice rising and falling from the Doppler shift as she moved back and forth. "His name is Corey. Corey Martindale. His mom is a witch, and they had to evacuate Collinsport, too. In fact, he's coming over today when I get home from school to stay for a weekend visit. You can meet him if you want to.

"But now, I want you to watch me! You want proof of magic? YOU'VE GOT IT!" Jenny let go of the swing when it reached its apogee and flew into the air.

"JENNY!" screamed Owen. But then he blinked when he saw the girl hover in mid-air for a moment, before gently coming straight down, landing so softly that her knees didn't even bend.

"Now do you believe me, Owen?"

"No," said Owen shaking his head. "There is no such thing as magic."

"But I _am_ a witch," insisted Jenny. "How else can you explain how I just did what I did?"

Owen said, "That was pretty cool how you jumped off that swing and landed softly. But it wasn't magic. Those must be mutant powers that you just showed me. But it's alright. I understand why you wouldn't want anyone to know. But I don't care if you are a mutant. My dad always told me to judge people by how they act, not by what they are. Hating someone for being a mutant is like hating someone for being a girl or because they are black or because they are Jewish, or something, and that would be stupid."

"But I'm telling you the _truth_, Owen," said Jenny. "I am not a _mutant_, though like I said before I wouldn't be ashamed if I was one. But I'm not. I am a _witch_. A real card-carrying, broom-riding, house-haunting, cauldron-stirring witch! Or, rather, I will be all that and more in another year or so, when my powers mature and I actually get my wand."

Owen still looked skeptical, but then Jenny saw something a few blocks over that raised her spirits; something that should prove her claim beyond a shadow of a doubt. Jenny pointed to the Trask Industries Sentinel that towered over homes and trees several blocks away from them. Owen turned and gasped. Then he grabbed Jenny's hand and began to pull her in the opposite direction. "Run, Jenny! I've gotta get you out of here! You've got to get away from that thing before you get a liquid nitrogen bath!"

"It won't hurt me Owen," said Jenny as she dug in her heels. "It doesn't even _see_ me. I'm not a mutant. _I'm a witch._ To that waste of good scrap metal, I'm nothing but a normal ten-year-old girl, if it even notices me at all! I could fly around its head on a broom once I learn how, and it won't even try to brush me away like a pesky mosquito.

"That's because what I just did was _magic_, Owen. Not telekinesis or some other mutant power. It was magic! It isn't genetic, or something. It just . . . it just _is_!"

"L-like when you jumped off that swing just now and landed safely?" said Owen doubtfully.

"Yeah," said Jenny. "And like when I got you your keychain back from those dweebs in the playground Wednesday morning, and how I got your clothes back in your locker yesterday during swimming lessons. I couldn't have done those things intentionally now even if I wanted to. But I got so mad seeing those bullies pick on you that I just . . . I just wanted to do _something_. I really wanted to clobber Chris for leading the others on. But I know that most boys wouldn't like it if a girl did something like that for them."

Owen and Jenny went into the pavilion to continue their conversation, out of the wind and out of sight from anyone that was undoubtedly looking for them. "We need to talk with my dad, Owen. We need to tell him what happened to your dad and call the FBS to come and help you. And I also need to tell them that I exposed Our World to a muggle. But I know they will see that I had a very good reason for what I did."

"What's the FBS?" said Owen.

"The United States Federal Bureau of Sorcery," said Jenny matter-of-factly. "That's the government agency responsible for enforcing magical laws and stuff. They also stay in touch with muggle agencies to help keep the Wizarding World secret.

"The FBS is the agency that ordered our evacuation of Collinsport when the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms came through. They said that when this town of Storybrooke appeared in the world, it set off every alarm that us magic users had, but muggles did not see it come.

"That's why we had to leave Collinsport, Owen. The FBS believes that this is because that Regina Mills lady knew that she had to hide from muggles, but may not have known that she also needed to hide from native wizards and witches as well. The evacuation was so they would not detect our magic the way we detected theirs."

"D-do you really think that this FBS can rescue my dad from Regina?"

"Of course they can, Owen!" said Jenny with a friendly grin. "They're the good guys! They'd never let him be held there against his will once they know about it. But we gotta tell my dad about this and the sooner the better!"

"Can we tell him today after school?" said Owen, his spirits lifted for the first time in weeks.

Jenny sighed. "We'll probably see him sooner than that, Owen. My dad and your uncle are probably at Stonewall right now, waiting for us in the principal's office. So I guess we'd better start walking back to school, huh Owen?"

Owen smiled sardonically, and said, "I think we're going to _ride_ back to school, Jenny. Look behind you . . . ."

As Jenny turned around, she saw a police car pull up to them. The window lowered, and a female officer said, "Are you Jennifer Jordan and Owen Flynn?" When the two children nodded, the officer added, "Then climb on in and I'll take you back to school. Everyone is worried about the two of you." Nobody said a single word as they rode back to Stonewall Elementary. The Sentinel several blocks over was not even looking in their direction.

When Jenny and Owen got back on school grounds, a relieved teacher led them straight to the Principal's Office. Principal Burr's secretary told Jenny and Owen to sit on the chairs just outside the Principal's office. "You are a very lucky young lady, Miss Jordan," said the secretary. "Your father called a few hours ago to give us your telephone number, so we were able to reach him now, rather than send you home with a note pinned to your jacket . . . ."

The two ten-year-olds sat in silence until Jenny's father and Owen's uncle arrived about twenty minutes later. Then the four of them were escorted into the Principal's office where they sat in chairs facing the Principal's desk.

The Principal of Stonewall Elementary School, a 60-ish looking gentleman named Mr. Burr, said, "Well, children, would you please explain to us why you saw fit to leave school grounds?"

Ren Jordan brushed his hair back with his hand. It looked like a casual gesture. It was not. With the exception of Jenny and her father, everyone else in the room had frozen in place. "I can only make this spell last for about a minute or two, Jenny, so talk fast. This isn't like you to cut classes. Why did you do it?"

Jenny said, "Dad, Owen ran from the cafeteria at lunch time because he was upset and I went after him to see if he was alright. The other kids are bullying him because something happened to Owen and his father on a camping trip in Maine on the night the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms came through. He and his dad were trapped _inside_ the Incursion when it "landed" around them. Owen got away, but his dad is still trapped inside."

Ren nodded. "Anything else I should know about, Jenny?"

"Uh, yeah," replied Jenny as she fidgeted in her chair. "I told Owen that I am a witch . . . ."

Ren nodded. "We'll talk more about this later at home. But for now . . . ." Ren brushed his hair again, and the conversation with Principal Burr continued.

After being duly admonished for what they did, Jenny and Owen went back to Miss Sherman's classroom. The other kids whispered to each other when Jenny and Owen came in and took their seats, but quieted down when Miss Sherman gave them a no-nonsense look. The classroom was unnaturally quiet until school let out, even when Miss Sherman told Jenny and Owen to see her after class.

When Jenny and Owen finally left the building, only two cars sat in the drop-off/pick-up lane; a 1980 Ford Fairmont and a 1953 Studebaker Starlight Coup. The Studebaker's hood was open, and Jenny's dad was showing off the engine to Owen's Uncle. Both men seemed to be in a fairly good mood as the children came up to them. Jenny's father was the first to speak. "I understand that you have a homework assignment this weekend, Jennifer."

"Yes, dad," said Jenny. "Owen and I have to each write a three-page paper about why it is wrong to leave school grounds without permission."

"I hear that you got off easy, sport," said Owen's Uncle. "Your teacher told us that the normal punishment for this is a five-page paper." The man's voice softened a bit, and he said, "Owen, I understand that you felt bad and that Jennifer was just trying to help. But you kids scared us.

"So, Owen, is this the last time you will ever do something like this?"

"Yes Uncle Sean."

"I'm glad to hear that, Owen. But I'm even gladder that you finally seem to have made a friend at school. Mr. Jordan says that Jenny was having problems fitting in, too. Hopefully, this is the silver lining in today's cloud.

"Mr. Jordan also asked me if you would like to spend the night at their house. He also said that Jenny has a friend coming over from her old neighborhood and that they wouldn't mind if you joined them."

"I'd like that a lot, Uncle Sean!"

"Now, normally, I would not want you to do this; especially after what you did today. And I have to admit that I am a little uncomfortable with the idea of a boy/girl sleepover at your age. But Mr. Jordan speaks highly of Jenny's friend Corey, so I am willing to take a chance. I'll give you my permission, provided that you can get your papers done at the same time."

"I will, Uncle Sean, I promise!"

Sean Flynn nodded and said, "Let's go home to get your sleeping bag, a change of clothes, and your toothbrush. Mr. Jordan gave me the address. We should be there in an hour."

Owen said goodbye to Jenny, and told her that he would see her soon. Then he drove away with his Uncle Sean to get his things. When they drove off, Ren Jordan said, "Let's get home ourselves. Corey is there waiting for you." Then, in a bad Ricky Ricardo imitation, he added, "And Jenny, you have some 'splainin to do on the way . . . ."


	18. Memories

**Chapter 18: Memories**

Jennifer Jordan had finished telling her dad what had happened at (and away from) school just as they pulled up to their new home. "So, what do we do now, dad?"

Ren Jordan said, "We'll have to contact the FBS as soon as possible sometime tonight to let them know what happened. But first, I'd like to speak with Owen and answer any questions that he may have before I call them. From what you just told me, that boy has been through a horrible ordeal. The last thing that we need right now is for some gung-ho Auror to apparate inside our home with a loud bang and traumatize him even more.

"But for now, I want you to bring Corey up to speed about what happened before Owen comes over. He's in the backyard waiting for you, and I know that he's anxious to see you again. In the meantime, I'll let the Lovegoods know what happened. Also, your mom will be calling us around 5:30 tonight, now that we have a phone. And I've got to get started on dinner for everyone in a little bit."

"French Toast?" said Jenny smiling.

Ren smiled himself, and shrugged. "What else?"

"Wonderful!" said Jenny. Her dad made the best French Toast in all of Collinsport, Maine (and now, no doubt, also in all of U-City, Missouri.) "I can't wait to talk with mom! It's been almost a week! And I know that Ricky will want to hear her voice, too!"

Jenny went straight for the backyard and saw Corey sitting on the swing. He smiled the moment he saw her, got off the swing, and met her halfway across the yard. Jenny blinked. Corey had to be an inch taller than when she last saw him! The two friends stopped a few feet from each other. For a moment, Jenny thought that Corey was going to give her a hug. But even though he didn't, Jenny's smile did not waver. "Hi, Corey! It seems like years since I last saw you!"

"Ayuh, Jenny!" said Corey with a broad grin. "It seems that way to me, too!" Corey thought that Jenny was going to hug him when she ran up to him. Corey was ready for it, hoping for it. But when Jenny didn't, he stopped himself, holding his smile. Not now, but maybe later on, when he gave her what he brought, and asked her . . . .

"So, how's your new school, Corey?" said Jenny. "I guess you must have made _lots_ of friends there by now."

"Some," said Corey wistfully. "But you know how it is when you're the new kid on the block and everybody else has known each other since kindergarten. I did make some "friends;" but only because when we played basketball in gym class my first day there, I got three baskets." Corey rolled his eyes. He couldn't help but wonder what would have happened to him at his new school if he was _not_ so good at sports . . . .

"S-so how do you like it here, Jenny?" said Corey. "Your new home and school, I mean?"

Jenny shrugged a ten-year-old-girl's shrug. "Alright, I guess."

Corey nodded. "Those kids at your new school you told me about; Chris and Lori and the others. Are they giving you a hard time?"

"Not so much me. But they seem to be mostly concentrating on making Owen Flynn's life as bad as they can."

"Have you had any luck talking with Owen today?"

"Actually, I did," said Jenny brightening a little. "And you won't believe what happened!" Jenny told Corey about what just happened at school, from the time she left school grounds to chase after Owen to when her dad brought her home from school a few minutes earlier. And through it all, Corey listened wide-eyed, not even blinking once.

"You actually _told_ Owen that you are a witch," said Corey; a statement, not a question. "What did your dad say when you told him _that_ part?"

"Well, we will have to call the FBS and tell them. We'll be doing that when Owen comes over."

"W-when will that be?"

"He should be here any time now," said Jenny. "We invited him to come over and spend the night with us."

"Oh . . . ," said Corey softly.

"Dad and Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood want to talk with him before we call the FBS," said Jenny. "Can you believe it, Corey? Owen and his dad were actually _inside_ the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms! They actually _saw_ what was inside and made _First Contact_ with them!"

"Yeah," said Corey without any enthusiasm. "Awesome . . . ."

"Corey, is everything alright?" said Jenny, sensing that something was not quite right with her friend. "Is something wrong . . . ?"

Corey looked down at his feet, and said, "Well, I . . . . It's just that I thought that it would be, you know, just _you and me_ this weekend, Jenny."

"Corey, I . . . ." Jenny stopped in mid thought when she realized that the two of them were no longer alone in the backyard. Corey followed Jenny's stare, expecting to see Owen Flynn. Corey saw that there was another boy in the yard. But it was obviously not Owen. For one thing, this boy was older than a Fifth Grader; at least fourteen or fifteen. And for another, this boy was not a muggle; he was a wizard.

The newcomer had dirty blond hair and pale skin. He wore an Izod shirt and golf pants and carried a small briefcase. Despite the cold, he wore only an expensive looking sweater over his shirt. He looked at the two Elementary School kids in turn. "Jennifer Jordan," he said, nodding to Jenny. "And Corey Martindale . . . ."

The newcomer looked around, taking in the Jordan's backyard and the neighborhood that could be seen from it before saying, "Hmph, not very secure back here, is it, Jennifer. I guess your dad has to pay at the pump, these days, huh? What's it going for now; about a dollar a gallon? And your cars get, what, about thirteen miles per gallon without using the A/C and overinflating the tires? How do you even manage it? Living off the _Shmoo_, no doubt . . . ."

"What's it to you, kid?" snapped Jenny as fiercely as she could manage. "It's _not_ coming out of _your_ parent's pocket!"

"No, but if your father _could _practice magic _openly_, your family would want for nothing. A lot of our families would want for nothing. Then maybe your dad could even afford better wheels than your _late-model_ Studebakers. _My_ dad just traded in his '50 Cadillac for a '48 Tucker . . . ."

The older boy then made an exaggerated sniffing noise with his nose. "Man, how can the two of you even stand it here, coming from the Eastern Seaboard, and all? The air here smells funny without the ocean nearby." He jerked his thumb westward. "And that little river just doesn't cut it. Can't even _swim_ in it anymore, like Tom and Becky did in Mark Twain's books, can you? At least, not without running the risk of getting cancer or developing superpowers; it's too polluted! The muggles have pretty much seen to that, haven't they?"

"Who are you, kid?" said Jenny impatiently. "And what do you want?"

"Oh, I guess that I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Kale Sanderson. My parents are Thaddeus and Moira Sanderson, of the Salem, Massachusetts Sandersons. Now do you two know who I am . . . ?"

Jenny blinked. The Sandersons of Salem, Massachusetts, were an old, one-time pureblood Wizarding family that were rumored to be involved in the Dark Arts and, more recently, in a Wizarding Supremacist group known as the Illuminated Brethren of the Ebon Night.

"Now, why are you here?" said Jenny, though she could guess why, especially after going through the mail for the past couple of days. "Salem wasn't ordered to evacuate – you're too far away from the Incursion for that."

"Yes, we did get lucky . . . ," said Kale sincerely. "We only lost our _vacation_ home in Collinsport, but nobody was there at the time. And we have other vacation homes that we can use . . . .

"Now, as for why I am here, it's just to follow up on some literature that your dad," Kale nodded to Jenny, "and your mom," he nodded to Corey, "had been sent, recently. Are you aware that your parents have been given the supreme honor of being asked to join our organization for protecting the rights and safety of all magic users and their families?"

"Dad didn't mention it," said Jenny evenly. "Can't be much of an honor, then, can it?"

"Well, maybe you should ask him to actually _read_ what we sent him," said Kale. "We know that your father threw the first two packets we sent him into the fireplace. But he has yet to do that to the one that he got today. Just ask him to look it over, and encourage him to join. Tell him that it would make you feel safer, if he does.

"And that goes for you, too, Corey. We have yet to hear from your mom, though I suppose that she has a good excuse, what with being preoccupied with setting up the "Fall Back" Wizards' Hospital Station, and all. In any case, it's best that they join before anything more happens and whoever came through from the Enchanted Realms makes their move."

"Oh, they'll be sorry if they do that, Kale!" said Jenny. "If whoever or whatever came over tries anything _stupid_, we'll all stop them, and I do mean all of us; wizards, muggles and mutants!"

"Don't be so naïve, Jennifer," said Kale dryly. "Do you _really_ think that the muggles of this world will be so eager to work with us when they see that the invaders use _magic_? They are more likely to blame _us_ for them being here! And if you think things are bad now, just wait until you've got a mob of crazed muggles at your door going after your dad's head!"

"Don't sell us muggles short, Kale," said Corey. "It's not the Seventeenth Century anymore."

"Try telling that to the mob that comes for your _mom_, Martindale," snapped Kale. "You really think that you and your dad can talk them out of hanging her when they find out that she is a witch? Or are you planning to try and fight them off? You know, even if you and your daddy are packin' shotguns or Uzis, you'd still be _outnumbered_ and would just end up hanging right alongside of her!

"Mark my words, the only way to ensure your parents' safety – and your own safety, too, for that matter - is if we get organized and ready to make _our own move_ before it's too late!"

"What kind of "move" are you talking about, Kale?" said Jenny.

"What else?" said Kale. "Our move to take control of this world from the muggles; who are even now ruining it to the point that they are threatening to destroy it! So, you see, this is not just for our own safety, but for their safety as well. We'll also protect the mutant muggles, too. They are kind of in the same position that we are – or rather, _have been in_ \- for the past six hundred years, or so. But to do this for the good of all mankind, we need to get properly organized. And getting Lawrence Jordan and Healer Rachel Martindale onboard will be a step in the right direction."

"Fine," said Jenny. "We'll talk to our parents. But don't be too surprised if they still don't join. Now, please leave us alone!"

"Is that what you plan to tell a mob of angry muggles when they try to kill you and your little brother and your daddy, Jennifer?" said Kale, his voice taking on a menacing edge. "Please leave us alone? Oh, yeah, _that's_ going to work! Or are you going to try and hold them off with magic? Hey, let's see if you can hold _me_ off!" Kale snapped his fingers, and said, "Locomotor Wibbly!" causing Jenny to shriek in surprise as she fell to the ground by Kale's Jelly-Legs Jinx.

Corey rushed Kale, trying to tackle the bigger boy and shove him to the ground. But Kale quickly overpowered the Sixth Grader, forcing him to his knees with his right arm twisted behind his back.

"Leave him alone, Kale!" said Jenny. "Dad! Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood! Help!"

"Sorry to disappoint you, Jennifer," said Kale, applying more pressure to Corey's arm as the eleven-year-old winced in pain. "But the first thing that I did when I got here was to cast a Disillusionment Charm around the yard. Nobody can hear you! Besides, I'm not _really_ going to hurt him! Not seriously, anyway. I'm not using any _magic_ on Martindale, here, am I? When I fight a muggle, I play fair and use my _fists_, not my _words_, isn't that right, Corey?"

"H-hurting my arm . . . !" said Corey through clenched teeth. "Let go . . . !"

"So? Even if I do break it, mommy can fix it all up and make it _all better_, can't she?" taunted Kale. "Or maybe I should call a muggle ambulance when it snaps? I got one of those new cellular telephones with me in my briefcase that I am dying to use! The ambulance will take you to the local hospital's Emergency Room. With all those muggle witnesses, you'd have to wear a plaster cast for more than a month! And during hockey season, too! What a shame!"

But just as Kale began to apply more pressure, he found himself thrown away from Corey, sprawled out on his back. Corey crawled over to where Jenny had managed to get herself into a sitting position. Kale's Jelly-Legs Jinx had just about worn off. Though Corey's arm hurt really badly, he still managed to help Jenny to her feet. "Way to go, Jenny!" said Corey. "But we gotta get to your dad and the Lovegoods before Kale gets up!"

"I didn't do anything to Kale," said Jenny. "And I don't think we are going to need my dad or the Lovegoods, for now. Look . . . ." Jenny nodded to where Kale had landed and another boy was standing over him. This boy was a little younger than Kale; maybe twelve or thirteen. But he was almost a foot taller than Kale was. The new boy was dressed in faded jeans, work boots and a Chicago Cubs baseball jersey over which he wore an old duster jacket.

"Get up, Sanderson," said the new boy. "I didn't hex you _that_ hard. I know better than to pick on those _weaker_ and _smaller_ than me. But that looks like a lesson that you still need to learn."

Kale scrambled to his feet, and said, "Hey, I don't want any _trouble_, Dresden! I just came here to deliver a message to the Jordans and the Martindales from my mom and dad, that's all."

"People who use broken bones to 'deliver a message' _are_ looking for trouble, Sanderson." The boy looked over at Jenny and Corey. "Are you two alright? How about your arm, Corey? Want me to take you to see your mom?"

Corey rubbed his shoulder, and said, "No thanks, Harry. It's just sore. I think that Jenny's dad or the Lovegoods can fix me up, if I need it."

"Were you following me, Dresden?" said Kale, brushing off his sweater and pants.

"Actually, Corey's mom sent me," said Harry as he reached into the pocket of his duster. When his hand came out, he was holding a twenty and a ten. "Your mom and dad thought that it might be nice of you to treat the Jordans to a pizza your last night here as a way of thanking them for letting you stay for the weekend. There should also be some left in case you want to take Jenny on the train ride if you go to the zoo."

"Thanks, Harry," said Corey as he pocketed the money.

"For _everything_," added Jenny smiling.

"Don't mention it," said Harry nodding. He then went over to Kale Sanderson and said, "C'mon, I'll walk with you to the Floo Station. I'm going there, myself. We can talk about sports along the way. Now, since it is a foregone conclusion that the Cubs will beat the Sox out of the World's Series next year, we can talk about _Quidditch_, instead of baseball.

"So, how about those Sweetwater All-Stars? Do you think that they've got a chance against the Heidelberg Harriers this year for the Word Cup . . . ?"

Kale shot Jenny and Corey a "this isn't over," look before he left with Harry, who gave Kale an "oh yes, it is," look before they left through the gate in the Jordan's backyard.

"We'd better get inside, Corey," said Jenny. "Owen will be here, soon." Corey nodded and followed Jenny through the kitchen and into the living room to find Ren at the door. He was holding Ricky and speaking with Owen and his Uncle Sean.

Owen smiled when he saw Jenny. "Hi, Jenny! And you must be Corey! Jenny has told me a lot about you!"

Both Jenny and Corey said "Hi," back to Owen. But Jenny noticed something about the way Corey greeted Owen. Not with hostility, but not overly friendly, either; just polite. Not at all like the Corey that she knew; who was usually the first one to greet a new kid at school back in Collinsport and befriend them before introducing them to everyone else.

Owen's Uncle Sean gave Jenny and Corey a quick once-over, shook his head, and said, "I still don't like the idea of a boy/girl sleepover at their age. But you seem like good people; especially after Jenny went above and beyond the call of duty to make friends with Owen."

"When bedtime comes," reassured Ren. "Jenny will sleep in her room upstairs and the boys will sleep in the living room." Sean Flynn nodded. He loved and cared for Owen, but after the past few weeks, he was looking forward to getting some time-off, as it were.

When Owen's uncle left, Jenny saw the two boys engaging in minor, "small talk." Again, not hostile, but not overly friendly, either. Jenny was about to say something when the telephone rang. "I bet that's your mom, sweetheart," said Jenny's dad.

Jenny excused herself and ran to the telephone in the next room. Ren followed her, taking Ricky with him, leaving Owen and Corey alone in the living room.

Corey was about to say something, but Owen spoke first. "Jenny's told me a lot about you, Corey."

"Yeah?" said Corey.

"Yeah, Corey, but I gotta talk fast. Jenny could be back any minute now, so I don't have a lot of time to _warn_ you."

Corey raised an eyebrow, "Warn me about what?"

"Well," said Owen. "Jenny is pretty neat, for a girl, that is. But she _is_ a girl, and I get the idea that she doesn't just want you as a _friend_; she wants you for a _boyfriend_! So watch your back, man, or she might try to make you hold hands with her and kiss you and stuff . . . !"

When Jenny came back to the living room after speaking with her mom, she was startled to see Corey and Owen rolling on the floor fighting! She was about to try and break them up, when she noticed that they were giggling as they tried to punch each other gently in each other's arms. Even with the beating that Kale had just given Corey, he did not seem to mind.

"You need a _booster_ cootie shot, Corey!" said Owen as he punched Corey's arm. "It's for your own good! We're living in the age of cooties, you know!"

"Well, you're here too, dude! So you'll also need one!" said Corey between giggles.

Jenny shook her head. _Boys_! She would _never_ figure them out!

When the Lovegoods came into the living room to meet Owen, both he and Corey attempted to out-stare baby Luna, and both boys lost miserably. While the Lovegoods watched, Jenny and the boys played with her little brother as her father went to the kitchen to start dinner. A short time later, Ren called everyone to the dining room table for some of his famous French Toast.

Before Ren could say, "no running in the house," the three kids sprinted for the table and then, when they were reminded that they had to wash their hands before dinner, they all changed course for the downstairs bathroom without breaking stride.

Owen actually felt like a normal kid again, and very soon, G-d willing, he would be, now that he was with people who could actually help him.

The Jordans had gotten their first delivery of commodities from the Shmoo Preserve that morning. Since Ren knew that Corey was coming over later that afternoon (and since money was running short,) there was really no doubt what would be served for dinner. After the person from Southwestern Bell had finally arrived and finished hooking up the Jordans phone, Ren made a quick trip to the local grocery store. He bought a couple of loves of sliced bread, some store brand maple (flavored) syrup and some powdered sugar. That, and the eggs, milk and butter that had just been delivered courtesy of their friendly neighborhood shmoon would be all that he needed to make plenty of his famous French Toast for everyone. To round it out, the Lovegoods provided a fresh fruit salad.

When Ren had a full platter of French Toast and expertly scrambled eggs, he took out his wand and carefully levitated them out to the dining room table where everyone waited anxiously. Ricky squealed and laughed from his highchair when he saw the platters coming out of the kitchen in mid-air ahead of his father.

"Alright!" said Corey, who then turned to Owen and added, "Man, are you in for a treat, Owen! Mr. Jordan makes the best French Toast, ever!"

But while Owen was hungry, his main attention was on the plates hovering to the table like food-laden UFO's. When the plates landed softly, Owen took out his camera and took a few pictures of the French Toast and fluffy scrambled eggs.

"Now, why did you do that, Owen?" said Pandora Lovegood.

"It just looks so good!" replied Owen. "I wanted something to remember it by before we eat it and it's all gone! I'm even thinking about becoming a photographer that takes pictures of meals for restaurants' menus and food magazines when I grow up. Maybe even go into business for myself!"

The Jordans, the Lovegoods, Corey Martindale and Owen Flynn said a quick prayer of thanks then dug in with gusto. Owen had to admit that Mr. Jordan's French Toast _was_ the best that he had ever eaten! Owen complimented Jenny's dad on the French Toast and the melt-in-your-mouth scrambled eggs. Having missed lunch, Jenny and Owen both had extra helpings. Ricky, of course, got as much _on_ him as he got _in_ him . . . .

As they ate, Jenny and Corey told everyone about their run-in with Kale Sanderson and how a boy named Harry Dresden came and saved the day. Then Owen told them what had happened to him and his father when they went camping in the woods in Maine; about what had happened to them in Storybrooke; and how Owen was able to escape, but that his father was still being held as a prisoner in Storybrooke by Mayor Regina Mills.

When they had finished eating, Owen said, "Mr. Jordan, did you use, you know, _magic_ to make all this?"

"Only to get it out to the dining room, Owen," said Ren smiling broadly. "The rest was skill; _skill_ I tell you! Though I should admit that you can count the foods that I can prepare well on one hand and still have a finger or two left over . . . ."

Owen nodded, and said, "So, Mr. Jordan, how many people in the world can do . . . magic? Not too many, I would think."

"Well, Owen, that's a tough one," said Ren as he paused to collect his thoughts. "I remember that the White Council – that's kind of like the Wizards' United Nations or something along those lines – took a census about ten years ago. They reckoned that there were anywhere from eight to nine million wizards and witches worldwide at that time. There are probably a little more than that, now; but it is kind of hard to say . . . ."

Xeno added, "It varies from country to country, Owen. Even from place to place within any given country's borders. There are places where wizards and witches keep a very low profile and others where they practise magic more or less openly among their muggle neighbors."

"Where is that, sir?"

"Oh, places like some rural areas of Romania, Hungary, Brazil, Haiti, Korea, and even here in the States and Canada with large populations of Native Americans and Canadian First Nations," said Xeno. "Though even in such places, we still try to hide in plain sight, as it were."

Ren said, "Most Bureaus and Ministries of Magic strictly enforce the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, Owen. In fact, most wizards and witches do not want their muggle neighbors to know that we exist." Ren shook his head and gave an ironic laugh. "And now, it seems that we have to hide from other wizards and witches, as well . . . ."

"The people in Storybrooke that I told you about," said Owen. "From the Enchanted Realms that appeared in Maine on October 22nd, you mean?"

Ren nodded. "Yeah . . . _them_ . . . ." Ren waved his wand and a damp towel came floating from out of the kitchen. He then turned his attention to Ricky and said, "Time to get you cleaned off, champ . . . ."

"But if they are wizards and witches like you are, Mr. Jordan," said Owen. "Then why hide from them?"

"Because whatever else they may be," said Ren seriously as he wiped his son's messy face off with the damp towel as the boy giggled and squirmed. "They are _invaders_ from another dimension who have come to Our World _uninvited_ and have driven us from our homes. We're no happier that they are here than you or Corey would be if the invaders were _muggles_ who used advanced space technology to come here, uninvited."

Dori looked down at Luna, asleep in her lap, and added, "We think that there is a good chance that they may be hostile."

"That Regina lady tried to keep us from leaving," said Owen nodding. "And she still has my dad as her prisoner . . . ."

Xeno shook his head. "Not exactly an argument for, "We come in peace," is it . . . ?" Xeno looked over to Dori and Luna and sighed.

"So what do we do now, dad?" said Jenny, maybe with a little too much enthusiasm. "We're gonna call the FBS so they can send the Aurors and Whitelighters into Storybrooke to rescue Owen's dad, right? And Owen is going to tell them what they need to know to do it!"

"But I don't know what I can tell them that would help," said Owen softly. "I mean, I told you everything about what happened. I don't know what more that I could tell the FBS that they could use to rescue my dad."

Ren said, "Well, you are going to do more than _tell_ them, Owen – you are going to _show_ them, as well."

"How?"

Ren jerked a thumb in the direction of the living room, and said, "You saw that large, stone bowl on a pedestal in our living room when you first came inside? You were probably wondering why we have a birdbath in our home, Owen. But it is actually something called a _pensieve_. It's a magical object that can be used to view another person's _memories_ of something that they experienced, and in greater detail than the person is able to consciously remember if they were only able to _tell_ them.

"It might help you to think of it as a kind of home movie projector for wizards. A viewer may actually watch a person's memory of an event play out in real time. And it includes details that a person would not think they had committed to memory, such as what bystanders were wearing or what kinds of cars were parked on the street as they walked by."

"Do all wizards own one, Mr. Jordan?" said Owen.

"No, _t_hey are quite expensive. I had rented this one from a store in Collinsport the evening of October 22nd just before the Incursion hit to use at Jenny's birthday party that we had planned for the next day. It was still in the trunk of my wife's car when we had to leave Collinsport. I'd be owing one heck of a late fee, but the store is currently closed, if you follow me . . . ."

Ren took out his wand and touched the tip to his temple. He then pulled it slowly away and Owen watched in amazement as a gossamer wisp of what looked like luminous smoke was drawn out. "This is my memory of going to the store to rent the pensieve, Owen. If you want to see it, all I have to do is fully draw it out and put it in the pensieve for you to watch. And when I say "watch," I don't mean like you would watch something on TV. You would actually view the memory "in the round," you might say. Kind of like a muggle hologram."

"But, what will happen to your memory of what you put in the pensieve, Sir?" said Owen. "Will you forget about it until you put it back in your, uh, mind . . . ?"

"Not at all," said Ren reassuringly. "I did not _remove_ my memory, Owen; I _copied_ it for others to see." Ren flicked his wand slightly and the wisp of glowing smoke receded back into his temple. "If I fully removed the copy from my mind, I could then store it in a small bottle that had been enchanted for that purpose, or just let it "boil off" into the ether. In any case, I won't forget what happened, and I can even make more copies, if I want to."

"Is that what the FBS is going to do to me, Mr. Jordan?"

"More than likely," Ren nodded. "Of course, they will need to ask you some questions to help you remember specific things that they want to view. You might think of that part as going to the index of a book to find something specific that you had read earlier and wanted to review, but forgot what page it was on."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not at all," said Ren. "Though it may take some time for them to get what they want. We may even have to go to the FBS Headquarters in Salem, Massachusetts, for a few hours before they are finished. But don't worry; we'll use magical means to go there and be back the same day."

"C-can you show me?" said Owen. "Before you call the FBS people?"

"Absolutely," said Ren. "Let's go."

When they got to the living room, Jenny said, "Let's show Owen one of my memories, dad, so he will know that it is safe!"

Jenny's dad nodded, and then touched his wand to his daughter's temple, drawing out a wisp of smoke like he did with himself at the table. But instead of letting it go back into her mind, Jenny's dad guided it into the pensieve. When he flicked his wand and let the memory fall into the bowl, it formed a shimmering surface that looked like water, but that somehow, Owen knew was something else entirely.

"Now we put our faces in and watch," said Jenny. "It's a little scary the first time you use one of these. But it doesn't hurt one bit."

Ren said, "What memory are you going to show Owen, Jenny?"

Jenny smiled. "That time I told you about at the beach last year, when Corey tried to show me and Karen what a good "surfer" he was."

"Oh, no, Jenny!" said Corey as he tried to suppress a grin. "Please, not _that_ one!"

"Just put your face in the bowl when I do, Owen," said Jenny, ignoring Corey's protest.

"B-but won't we have to hold our breath, Jenny?" said Owen. "It looks like water or something."

"No, you just breathe normally; it may look like water, but it isn't. Just follow me." Jenny took Owen's hand. Owen winced. "It's OK," said Jenny sighing. "I promise that I don't have cooties! Owen nodded and he bent down to put his face in the bowl. As soon as he did, he felt himself falling, surrounded by wisps of smoke that seemed to "land" on an invisible floor. They then formed shapes that became a beach not too different from the Jersey Shore where Owen had gone every summer with his family a lifetime ago.

Standing on the beach next to Jenny, Owen saw two girls about nine building a sand castle while a boy about ten that Owen recognized as Corey was sitting on a surf board waving to them from the water. One of the girls looked like a younger Jenny and the other girl was of Asian ethnicity.

"Jenny!" yelled Corey from the surf board. "Jenny! Karen! Check this out! I'm gonna catch a wave! It's coming! Watch me!"

Owen had to smile as he watched Corey lie down on his board and paddle as the wave came from behind him. As he got moving, he tried to stand and slid off the board in a less-than-spectacular wipe-out. Then Corey swam to his board and paddled ashore, trying to look cool as he walked up to the giggling girls while carrying the too-big board.

"Please tell me that you guys didn't see that . . . ." said the memory of Corey, suddenly dropping his surfboard when he realized that his swim trunks were sliding down and he had to pull them up fast as Jenny and Karen laughed uncontrollably. Then the scene ended and Owen found himself alongside Jenny standing beside the pensieve.

Jenny giggled. "I'll never forget the look on Corey's face when he realized that he was about to lose his swimsuit! It looked too big for him, just like that surfboard that he was trying to use!" She smiled at Corey, whose face was red with embarrassment, but was also smiling, as well.

"But, do you _still remember_, Jenny?" said Owen.

"Sure, I'll never forget!"

"Even though your memory of what happened back then is in that bowl?"

"Remember what dad said, Owen. That's just a _copy_ of what I remember from that day. It's no different from telling someone about it. But showing is always better than telling!"

"Not only that," said Jenny's dad. "But it helps you remember things that you may not remember consciously, since you see what you saw at the time."

"Yeah," said Jenny. "Like, I don't remember Corey being that skinny last year. But he must have been! And I could have sworn that his swim trunks were red and not blue like we just saw." Jenny laughed when she remembered how funny her friend looked that year; all the more so when he tried to act like a _surfer dude_ after only one lesson. "And that sand castle that Karen and me had made wasn't nearly as big or as detailed as I had remembered it . . . ."

Jenny's dad waived his wand over the pensieve, drawing out his daughter's memory and guiding it into a glass phial that he then sealed with a cork. "We should send this home with Corey to the Martindales, Jenny. They'll probably get a big kick out of it." Corey just groaned. Ren then turned to Owen, and said, "Are you ready to give it a try?"

Owen nodded, and then Mr. Jordan drew a gossamer wisp of thought from Owen's temple with his wand and flicked it into the pensieve. "We're ready to go, Owen. Would you like me to come with you?"

Owen nodded. Jenny held her little brother as Mr. Jordan took Owen's hand and gave him a reassuring nod. Then they put their faces into the shimmering surface. Again, wisps of smoke came down with them. But this time, they solidified into a setting in rural Maine that Owen knew all too well. Two vehicles, a 4X4 and a police car also appeared, joined by two men, a woman, and a boy. Then the memory began to play out.

Owen found himself inside the nightmare that he had been having almost nightly since his dad was taken from him. But this time, he was a detached observer, and he was not alone. Holding hands with Mr. Jordan, Owen watched as Regina Mills, the Mayor of Storybrooke, ignored him and Jenny's dad and walked over to a _second_ Owen Flynn; a memory of himself, who was standing just inside the Storybrooke town line.

"Owen. It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," said Regina as she walked toward the Memory Owen.

"Why are you doing this?" said the Memory Owen, whose face was red from crying.

"I just want you to stay with me," said Regina. "You said that you liked it here. You want to stay here, don't you?" Regina put her hands on the Memory Owen's shoulders.

"Not like this . . . ," sobbed the Memory Owen.

"I-I'm sorry," said Regina, who looked like she was on the verge of crying, herself. "I just wanted us to be _happy_ . . . ." Regina removed her hands from the Memory Owen's shoulders, setting him free.

And then Owen heard the last words that his father ever spoke to him: "Run, Owen!"

Owen felt Mr. Jordan tug at his hand and suddenly, they were back in the Jordan's living room. Jenny's dad looked somewhat shaken as he said, "Well, Owen, did the pensieve show what happened the way you remember it?" Owen nodded, trying to keep from crying. "It's alright, Owen. Nobody is going to laugh at you if you are sad, least of all us." Then Ren turned to the Lovegoods, and said, "Ah, Xeno, Dori, I think that the two of you need to take a look, also . . . ."

Dori handed Luna to Corey to hold as the Lovegoods used the pensieve. Then Ren turned to Owen and said, "I would like to call the FBS as soon as possible, Owen. Anytime you are ready."

Owen sniffled and nodded. He turned away abashed as Jenny and Corey looked at him. Corey said sincerely, "Hey, Owen, if something happened to my mom and dad, I'd cry, too."

"Me too," added Jenny. "So would _any_ kid, and those that say they wouldn't are _liars_! And the sooner we call the FBS, the sooner they can do what they have to do to get your dad back!"

"Call them, _now_!" said Owen fiercely. "I'm ready! Now, it's _Regina's_ turn to cry!"

When the Lovegoods were finished with the pensieve, Xeno said, "When are we calling the FBS, Ren?"

"Owen wants us to do it right now, Xeno."

"Good."

Dori said she would stay with the children as Xeno and Ren went to the telephone. She took Luna back from Corey, and held her daughter protectively, sitting down on the couch.

Jenny said, "Is everything alright, Mrs. Lovegood? What did you see in there?"

"Everything is just fine, children," said Dori softly. She motioned for Jenny, Ricky, Corey and Owen to come closer to her and Luna. "Don't worry, children. We adults have a . . . a _concern_. And we are going to bring this concern to the attention of whoever the FBS sends over, but don't worry children, everything will be alright . . . ."

"What do you think, Xeno?" whispered Ren. "It's HER, isn't it?"

"It is her, Ren, and no mistake!"

Ren said, "Mayor Regina Mills is the witch that we saw in the Professor's probe's footage! And she's _here_ right now in _Our World . . . _!"

Xeno nodded silently as Ren nervously dialed the number that every American wizard and witch had committed to memory and hoped that they never had to actually use . . . .


	19. Hope and Fear

**Chapter 19: Hope and Fear**

A few minutes after making the call to the FBS, Ren and Xeno came back into the living room. Dori said, "Well . . . ?"

"There will be an Auror here within the next twenty minutes, Luv," said Xeno.

Ren added, "They'll be apparating straight into the living room. They actually wanted to come the moment we told them about Owen, but I explained the situation and they are giving us a little time to let Owen know what to expect. Now they're waiting for our call to let them know that it's alright to come on over."

"What do you mean, Mr. Jordan?" said Owen. "I'm ready for them _now_!"

"Well, Owen," said Xeno pedantically, but kindly. "When most wizards and witches arrive somewhere when they apparate, it is normally accompanied by a very loud "bang," and we did not want to startle you."

Ren added, "If you'd like, you kids can wait in the kitchen or in Jenny's room upstairs until they get here."

"No," said Owen firmly. "I want to be here when they come. I'm not afraid of a little noise."

"Of course you are not, dear," said Dori reassuringly. "But some people - wizards as well as muggles - can find the sudden appearance of a person to be a little . . . disturbing." Then Dori turned to Xeno and said, "Did the two of you have any trouble convincing them to come over?"

"Not at all," said Xeno. "Once Ren said, "Storybrooke," it was all that we could do to prevent them from apparating here even before we hung up the phone."

"So they're just going to _appear_ into your living room?" said Owen. "Like the crew of the _NSEA Protector_ on "Galaxy Quest" when they use their _Digital Conveyor_? Awesome!"

"I like that show, too," said Corey. "Have you got any of the comics?"

"Only every one ever issued!" said Owen. "What other comics d'you like, Corey?"

"I'm kind of _old-fashioned_ when it comes to comics," admitted Corey. My grandpa gave me his old collection. Lots of "Superman" and "Batman" comics. D'you like those, too?"

"Not so much," said Owen. "When it comes to DC, I prefer their Famous Explorers and Famous Scientist titles."

Corey shrugged. Although the original DC Superheroes were popular when they first came out in the 1930's, the appearance of _real_ meta-humans and mutants over the past fifty years or so kind of made the old "Superhero" titles irrelevant. Though "Superman," "Batman," and "Wonder Woman" still hung in there; more and more those titles appealed to an ever-shrinking niche fandom.

Because of this, most comic book publishers had abandoned their Superhero titles a long time ago and switched to other subject matters. DC's main rival, Marvel, concentrated on subjects like Pirates, Spartans, Vikings and Ancient Celts as well as science fiction television and movie franchises like "Galaxy Quest" and "Star Wars." DC's lineup included Romans, Mongols, Magyars and Aztecs, and popular police and detective television shows like "Barnaby Jones," "Shaft," and "Columbo," and more recently, their Famous Explorers and Scientist series.

Die-hard, brand-specific fans were known to go at it whenever there were comic book conventions and loved to criticize the historical accuracy of the other's works. But ever since the Comic Book Controversy of the 1950's, when educators and parents were afraid that kids would read comics of questionable historical accuracy instead of actual history books; most publishers brought the best historians to their writing staffs that they could get to emphasize their commitment to historical accuracy. And as an added measure, the Comic Code Authority was formed in 1954 to proofread comics for historical accuracy before publication; often making the "comic books" even more accurate than the "official" history books . . . .

"There's this great comic book shop in Schaumberg that I found," said Corey. "They've got a first-edition Magyar issue on display there. You know, the one drawn by Jack Kirby with Prince Arpad standing on the hill with his people coming up behind him? You wouldn't believe what they want for it!"

Owen said, "My uncle got me the latest issue of Famous Scientists the other day. They're starting a new story arc about the pioneering geneticist, Gregor Medel. I'll let you read it when I'm done. It's pretty cool!"

"I'd like that," said Corey.

Then out of the blue, Owen said, "Corey, you said that your mom's a witch. So, how come you're not a wizard?"

Corey told Owen about how his birth mother had died when he was about Ricky's age, and how a few years later, his father married a witch who legally adopted him as her son. "I barely remember my birth mom. I was very young when she died. I kind of remember a few things about her, but nothing clear enough to see with my mom's pensieve.

"So for most of my life, I've called my adoptive mom, "mom."

Owen shook his head. "A boy with _two moms_ . . . weird . . . ."

"Not really," said Corey shrugging. "I bet stuff like that happens all the time. And I feel more like I'm _lucky_ than weird. I mean, in my life, I've had two moms who both love me. That's kind of neat."

"I guess," said Owen quietly. "I don't have a mom. Or _anyone_ else, now."

"That's not so, Owen!" said Jenny. "You have your Uncle Sean and you have us as your friends and pretty soon, you _will_ have your dad back! Trust me, as soon as this Regina lady gets one look at our Aurors and Whitelighters and maybe even Doctor Strange - the Sorcerer Supreme himself! - then she will give your dad back pretty quickly and be sorry that she ever took him in the first place! Be sorry she ever even came to our dimension at all!"

Owen sighed and nodded. "I sure hope so." He then turned to Jenny's father, and said, "I'm ready now, Mr. Jordan. Call the FBS and let's get started!"

Ren nodded and went over to the telephone. After speaking with the person at the other end for a few moments, Ren hung up the phone, and said, "They told me that they are sending over two Aurors and that they will be apparating here in exactly five minutes, so we need to leave the center of the room clear. And remember, Owen, when they come, it will be with a loud "bang!"

Jenny wondered who the FBS would send over to ask Owen about Storybrooke and his encounter with Regina Mills. The two Aurors that she and Corey had met at the Displaced Wizards' Center, Agent Wednesday Addams and Agent Hadji Quest-Singh, seemed to be working on everything Incursion related. But as experienced as they were, Jenny thought that they were _very_ intimidating looking, and would be all the more so to a muggle boy like Owen Flynn. So as much as she wanted to see them again, Jenny hoped that the FBS would take Owen's feelings into account. Jenny also knew that whoever the FBS did send over would probably need to speak with her as well, since she had exposed the Wizarding World to a muggle. And lastly, Jenny and Corey would want to tell whoever came over about their run-in with Kale Sanderson. Jenny knew that Miskatonic Penitentiary had a Juvie Wing, and she hoped that Kale would get to experience it first-hand for trying to break Corey's arm.

Owen, Jenny and Corey watched the clock on the wall as they counted down the seconds to the arrival of the Aurors. The second hand seemed to be moving slower than normal as Owen shifted his stare from the clock to the center of the room. As it approached the end of the five-minute mark, Owen's attention was riveted on the center of the room as he waited for –

Owen, Jenny and Corey jumped in their seats as two FBS Aurors apparated into the room with a "BANG" that was louder than expected. Jenny let out a shriek, and grabbed Corey's arm. Jenny also noticed that her father and Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood had been startled, as well. Luna simply regarded the wizard and witch just who arrived with casual curiosity. But Ricky Jordan was running around the room, exclaiming, "Grammagrampa! Grammagrampa! GRAMMAGRAMPA!"

Jenny laughed. "No, Ricky! It isn't Grandma and Grandpa paying us a visit! It is _other_ people!" Then she turned to Owen, and said, "Wasn't that TOTALLY AWESOME TO THE MAX!"

But Owen did not reply, and may not have even heard Jenny since his ears were still ringing from the sudden noise. Owen stared in shock at the two people, a young wizard and a slightly older witch suddenly stood where seconds before was only empty space.

That was when Jenny saw the wet spot on Owen's jeans. _NO!_ thought Jenny as a rush of embarrassment for Owen surged through her. Jenny blinked. Owen's jeans were now as dry as a desert, and then Jenny felt a surge of relief; all the more so when she realized that Owen, (and apparently nobody else,) did not even know what he had done . . . .

The witch from the FBS said, "Hello. My name is Agent Susan Spellman, and this is Agent Andre Graymalkin." She smiled at the children on the couch, nodded to Corey, and said, "Well, I know _you_! You're Ken and Rachel's boy. You probably don't remember me, but we met briefly when you were about six. I was the Auror who liaised with the muggle authorities to assist with your mother's adoption process."

"I'm happy to meet you, Agent Spellman," said Corey with a friendly eleven-year-old boy's smile.

Agent Spellman then nodded to Jenny, and said, "And you must be the famous Jennifer Jordan; the young girl who donated her seeing stone to the FBS to help us study the Incursion. Because of you we know, among other things, that what came through from the Enchanted Realms is a town called "Storybrooke." We could see signs with that name on them just inside the concealment spells that are surrounding the Incursion when we used the seeing stone.

"So when your father called us and said, "Storybrooke," we knew that this was worth following up on because we didn't release this information to the press, yet."

Jenny smiled widely, but the Lovegoods raised their eyebrows at the Auror's comment. Though the FBS's decision to withhold _some _details from the public was understandable, as _journalists_, it still made the Lovegoods uncomfortable, because it begged the nagging question, _what else_ are we not being told by the authorities in the name of "security?"

Then Agent Spellman went over to Owen, getting down on her knees so she would be able to speak with him without having to look down at the muggle boy. Her voice became a little softer, and she said, "And you must be Owen Flynn." Owen nodded, and Agent Spellman continued. "Well, Owen, I understand that you've had a very frightening experience in Maine a few weeks ago."

"Yes, Ma'am," squeaked Owen, his throat suddenly dry.

Agent Spellman smiled warmly. "Why don't you call me "Susan," Owen? After all, we are here to help you any way we can."

"Will you be able to get my father back from Regina?"

"I promise you that we will do everything within our power to help you, Owen," said Agent Spellman immediately. Again, Xeno and Dori raised their eyebrows at the Auror's comment. Maybe it was nothing, but _something_ about Agent Spellman's promise just did not feel right to them, despite the fact that her sincerity seemed genuine . . . .

"Well, first things first," said Agent Spellman. "I need to speak with both Owen and Jenny about the incident that occurred at around 12:43 pm today at Millar Park when Jenny exposed the existence of the Wizarding World to Owen. And let me assure you that based on what I currently know, I am prepared to classify Jenny's breech of the 1689 International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy as completely justifiable under the circumstances.

"Then, I would like to get statements from Jenny and Corey about their encounter at 5:17 pm with the Sanderson boy. I understand that he used a Jelly Legs Jinx on Jenny, and that he almost broke Corey's right arm with a muggle wrestling hold called a Hammer Lock.

"When that is done, I will speak with Owen about what happened to him and his father on the night of October 22nd of this year. I would also like to view the memory that Owen provided of his final encounter with this woman named Regina Mills. Then I will be able to tell you how we plan to proceed with this matter."

About twenty minutes later, Jenny's breech of the Statute of Secrecy was declared justifiable. Then Jenny's and Corey's statements against Kale Sanderson were taken down.

Ren said, "Agent Spellman, I would like to file formal charges against Kale Sanderson for his assault on my daughter. And I am sure that the Martindales will want to do the same for what he did to their son."

Agent Spellman shrugged, and said, "That won't be necessary, Mr. Jordan. Kale Sanderson has already admitted to what he did and has pleaded guilty. The Sandersons were fined two thousand dollars and five hundred galleons, which they promptly paid. As far as the Juvenile Wizengamot is concerned, the matter is closed."

Ren shook his head and sighed. This Ninth Grade _punk_ bullies two Elementary School kids and gets off with a slap on the wrist? True, that amount of dollars and galleons wasn't chump change by any means – at least not to the Jordans or even the Martindales. But Ren also knew that to the Sandersons, that was mere lunch money. Still . . . .

"Agent Spellman, did the Juvie Judge even consider _why_ Kale Sanderson bullied my daughter and her friend? He didn't do it 'because he felt like it.' He was trying to intimidate me and Healer Martindale through our kids into joining the Illuminated Brethren of the Ebon Night."

Owen's eyes widened, and he said, "Wait, who are these 'Brethren of the Night' people?"

Agent Spellman sighed. "The Illuminated Brethren of the Ebon Night are a _Wizarding Supremacist_ group, Owen. They, and other groups like the Magical Sons of the Confederacy, The Order of Trismegistos, and others too numerous to mention, tend to come out of the woodwork whenever there is some kind of crisis in the world, be it magical, muggle or natural."

"What do they want?" said Owen.

"Basically, they insist that wizards and witches should be the rulers of the world to save mankind from itself. And ever since the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms came into our world a few weeks ago, they have gone into hard-sell recruitment overdrive."

"This is the worst it has been since 1967," said Agent Graymalkin. "That year saw ethnic riots in the United States in places like Detroit and Newark, in addition to the wars in Vietnam, the Middle East, and Eurasia, on top of the ever-present threat of full-on Global Thermonuclear War.

"An international group of Aurors managed to infiltrate and break up a conspiracy of wizards and witches from, among other places, Egypt, India, Israel, Korea, Pakistan, Vietnam and even China, Russia and the United States, who were about to make their move against the Muggle World. Basically, they had a spell – a _curse_, really – that if enacted would have turned every last drop of refined gasoline, diesel oil and jet fuel into pancake syrup and coal into rock candy."

Agent Spellman said, "It would have reduced muggle civilization to a medieval level, where magic would then reign supreme. Of course, their motivations were not entirely humanitarian and altruistic. The leaders of this group would have set themselves up as the new Lords and Ladies of the Manor, as it were."

"A tough job," said Xeno dryly. "But someone has to do it."

"S-so there are wizards and witches that want to _take over the world_." Said Owen; a statement, not a question.

Ren said, "You know, Owen, we magic users are _human_, just like muggles are. What that means is that we have the same failings that you will find among muggles. In many ways, I am not too different from your father and uncle. I'm a working-stiff like they are. I care for my family and want the best for them. But I am not going to break any laws to do this anymore than your dad and uncle would want to.

"I guess what I am trying to say is that, yes; I _can_ hurt someone with my magic just as a muggle can hurt someone with a gun or a knife. But we are not just our talents and skills. We are how we chose to _use_ those talents and skills in our day-to-day lives. That's what makes us either good or bad people, Owen."

Owen nodded. What Jenny's dad said made a lot of sense. Sure, there may be evil magic users just as there are evil muggles. And Mr. Jordan clearly did not want any part of these people and their organizations. And his own father always told him to judge people by how they act; not by who or what they are.

Corey added, "Kale Sanderson almost broke my arm with a wrestling move, Owen; no magic involved. He did it because he was being mean – not because he is a wizard and I am a muggle."

Jenny said, "You know, saying that because there are bad people who can do magic and we must be bad because we can do magic would be like judging you by what evil muggles have done. It wouldn't be fair."

Owen softened, and said, "You're right, Jenny. Nobody here is _anything_ like Regina Mills."

Agent Spellman nodded solemnly, and said, "Now, let's see what we can do to help _you_, Owen." Agent Spellman then directed Owen to the couch in the living room, where she sat down with him. She then removed a small notepad and a pen from her jacket. "Would you like to see something pretty cool, Owen? This is a quick-quotes quill. It'll write down everything that we say so others can read it, too. Would you like to see it work?" Owen nodded, and Agent Spellman set the notepad and pen on the coffee table. With a tug of her ear, the notepad opened up and the pen went from horizontal to vertical on the pad, poised to write without being touched. Agent Spellman said, "Are you ready to begin, Owen?" Owen's eyes widened with surprise when he saw the magic pen write down, "Are you ready to begin, Owen?" And then, Owen said that he was; again watching the pen in pure amazement as it wrote down his reply word for word.

For the next hour and a half, Agent Spellman, Agent Graymalkin, and Owen Flynn talked about Owen's experience in Storybrooke and his encounter with Mayor Regina Mills. As they did this, Jenny and her father and the Lovegoods sat in the living room with them, giving silent moral support to Owen. Corey, of course, was attempting to out-stare Luna Lovegood, who was getting sleepy in her mother's arms.

When they were finished, Agent Spellman put away her notepad and quick-quotes quill, and then the Aurors viewed the memory of Owen's escape from Storybrooke and Regina Mills. Like the Lovegoods, they came out of the pensieve a few minutes later looking somewhat subdued and concerned. Owen said, "Well? What d'you think?"

Agent Graymalkin said, "Owen, when you and your father were in Storybrooke, did either of you see anything done that in hindsight you think might have been magic?"

Immediately, Owen shook his head. "No, Sir. Except for the other weird stuff that I told you about everyone repeating the same things from one day to the next, I did not see anybody there do anything like the stuff that everyone has done, here.

"When we were trying to escape from Storybrooke, my dad said something about Regina talking into a red crystal to control the sheriff. When we were trying to escape, dad said that he thought the sheriff might have been some kind of android. But that is the weirdest thing that I can think of, and I didn't actually see it happen.

"You know, now that I think about it, if Regina is such a powerful witch, then why didn't she try using magic to keep dad and me in her town?"

"That _is_ a very good question, Owen," said Agent Spellman. "I can't say about your dad, but when you really think about it, if Regina wanted to keep you in her town instead of letting you go, she did not have to use any magic."

"What do you mean, Agent Spellman?" said Jenny.

"Well, all that Regina would have needed to do would have been to _physically_ pick Owen up and _carry _him back to the sheriff's car." Agent Spellman gave Owen and Corey an apologetic look, shook her head, and said, "There is just no way that a ten or eleven year old boy can physically overpower an adult, thirtysomething woman. You might have gone kicking and screaming, Owen, but Regina would have taken you back tucked under her arm, regardless."

Jenny could not help but notice that both Owen and Corey were squirming uncomfortably in their seats. Even her father and Mr. Lovegood, as well as Agent Graymalkin – who were once preadolescent boys themselves – looked slightly abashed.

"But you do raise a very good point, Owen. There may be some reason why Regina did not use any magic. We _know_ that she can do magic. But why she did not use any to keep you from leaving Storybrooke is something of a mystery, for now."

"So, what now?" said Owen. "W-when are you going to rescue my dad?"

"Before we can help you in any way, we will need more information about the internal layout of Storybrooke. And to do that, we will need to copy all of your memories of your time in Storybrooke for pensieve viewing so detailed internal maps may be drawn up."

"Can we do that now?" said Owen.

"The process may take anywhere from five to eight hours," said Agent Graymalkin. "The notes from your interview will give us a guide of what we will need to ask you to focus in on the memories that we want to see, Owen. And we will want to do that back at the FBS Headquarters in Salem, Massachusetts."

"Whoa, wait a minute," said Owen. "How are we supposed to go all the way to _Massachusetts_ without my uncle finding out?"

"The same way that we came here, Owen," said Agent Spellman. "We'll apparate there and back."

"It'll be like riding the Digital Conveyer on "Galaxy Quest," Owen," said Agent Graymalkin.

Owen's eyes widened, "Are you a _Questarian_, too, Agent Graymalkin?"

"From way back, Owen," said Agent Graymalkin with a big smile. "By Grabthar's Hammer! By the sons of Worvan! Never give up! Never surrender! You know, I even have a model of the _NSEA Protector_ on my desk back in Salem. Hey, did you kids see the latest movie that came out last year, "Galaxy Quest II: The Wrath of Sarris," yet?"

Jenny and Corey responded simultaneously that they had. But Owen said softly, "Not yet. My dad and me kept meaning to see it. But, you know . . . ."

"Well, maybe we can all see it together after Owen's memory copying session, my treat! It's still showing in some theatres in Salem. I'll even spring for the popcorn and sodas."

"Thanks, Agent Graymalkin," said Owen. "But I kind of want to see it with my dad after you get him out of Storybrooke."

Agent Graymalkin paused, nodded, and said, "Alright, Owen."

"You know," said Agent Spellman. "What I would like to see is the copy of Mr. Jordan's and Mr. Lovegood's memory of what they saw at Professor Roberts' hotel room. I saw it back at FBS Headquarters, before we got here. But there is something that I want to review, if you don't mind."

"I've got it right here," said Ren, who went over to the pensieve and removed Owen's memory of his escape from Storybrooke with his wand, and then put it in a small bottle, setting it aside before he took another bottle and poured its contents into the bowl.

The Aurors then viewed the memory, emerging from the pensieve with neutral expressions. Agent Spellman said, "Mr. Jordan, I would like to speak with you and the Lovegoods in private for a few minutes." She then turned to Owen, Jenny and Corey, and said, "And I would like for the three of you to stay here until we come back." The three kids nodded, and the adults left them in the living room as they went into the kitchen, taking Ricky and Luna with them.

"How long do you think it will be before the FBS can send in someone to rescue my dad?" said Owen.

"I don't know . . . ," said Jenny, who was busy looking at the pensieve. It was now loaded with the memory of what her father and Mr. Lovegood had seen at the Professor's motel room while she, Ricky and Tammy hid under the kitchen table with a bedspread thrown over.

Corey said, "Jenny, you aren't thinking of doing what I think that you're thinking of doing, are you?"

"Why not, Corey?" said Jenny. "I mean, it can't be anything too bad, can it? Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood saw it, and so did the two Aurors and they look alright. C'mon, Corey, aren't you a little curious?"

"I'll go see it with Jenny if you don't want to, Corey," said Owen casually as he winked at Jenny.

"No, it's alright," said Corey as he got up off the couch and went to where Jenny was standing near the pensieve. "I'll see it with you, Jenny." Corey did not see Jenny give Owen a quick "thumbs-up" as she took Corey's hand and the two of them entered her father's memory.

Jenny and Corey found themselves standing behind the memory of her dad and Mr. Lovegood and Professor Roberts. Looking past the grownups, Jenny and Corey got a pretty good view of the screen on the control panel as another memory Professor Roberts and two other people named Steve and Mitch watched the instruments and the screen.

"Check it out, Corey! Professor Roberts actually sent a box with some cameras and stuff to the Enchanted Realms a couple of weeks before the Incursion came through! I wonder if that is how Regina found out about our world in the first place. What do you bet that Regina probably used the stuff in the probe to get here?"

"I don't think so, Jenny," said Corey. "I heard the Professor tell your dad and Mr. Lovegood just now that the probe only has cameras and experiments and stuff and a bunch of car batteries in it. I guess all the stuff needed to go from one dimension to the next is in the launching platform that the probe was on before it was sent over."

Jenny gasped and said, "Corey, look . . . !" The kids watched as knights in black armor dragged a man in peasant clothes over to a woman who was getting out of a stately, black carriage drawn by a team of horses. Jenny instinctively knew that the woman was a witch the moment she first saw her, even before she realized that the woman was Regina Mills from Owen's memory. But the second thing that attracted Jenny's attention was Regina's beautiful dress.

For a moment, Jenny slipped into an involuntary daydream. She imagined herself eight years from now, wearing a similar dress while a nineteen year old Corey Martindale, wearing a well-fitted, matching black and burgundy Tuxedo, was helping her down from a fancy horse-drawn carriage like the one Regina just emerged from. They were going to the Senior Prom at The Randolph Carter School for Witches and Wizards, and all of Jenny's classmates' eyes were on _them_. In the back of her mind, she imagined that Karen Minoru and he date would also be riding in the carriage as well, and would be stepping out after them. But for now, Jenny Jordan was the center of attention.

_I'm wearing this dress better than that mean old Regina, _thought Jenny. _I know that Corey will like me in it. And Mrs. Lovegood is right; Regina's upper-lip scar is _so_ fake looking . . . ._

The scene quickly changed, and now Jenny imagined herself in the ballroom at Randolph Carter, slow dancing to Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart" as Corey held her close . . . .

And then Jenny was abruptly awakened from her daydream when Regina took the peasant's heart from his chest, and crushed it.

When Jenny and Corey emerged from the pensieve, Owen asked them what they saw and if he could see, too. Jenny and Corey hesitated, unsure what they should say. But before Owen could press them for an answer, Agent Spellman and Agent Graymalkin came into the living room with Jenny's father and the Lovegoods. Agent Spellman used her wand to extract the memory out of the pensive bowl, and put it in a small phial that she promptly corked and then sealed it in what looked like a plastic evidence bag like the kind used by muggle police officers. Jenny and Corey exchanged a quick look, both children breathing a sigh of relief.

Agent Spellman said, "We'll be coming back to pick you all up in the morning around seven-thirty, so I want everyone to be ready. The entire debriefing should only take about five to eight hours, so we will have you back in time for supper."

Owen said, "And then you guys will work on getting my dad back from Regina, right?"

Agent Graymalkin smiled, and said, "We will do everything in our power to help you, Owen. That is a promise!"

A few moments later, the Aurors said their goodbyes, and then disapparated with another loud "bang!" But this time, Owen was ready for it and didn't even so much as flinch.

Ren said, "Jenny, why don't the three of you dress for bed. Then you can watch those shows you want to see before bedtime. But don't stay up too late. We are going to have a _very_ busy day, tomorrow."

Jenny checked the clock on the wall. It was after 8:30 pm, and "The Powers of Matthew Star," (a show that was _very_ popular with young wizards and witches; especially those who went to otherwise all-muggle schools,) was half over. But "Knight Rider" would be on afterwards at 9:00 pm.

"Uh, Mr. Jordan," said Corey. "Can I get cleaned up before I change? I got kinda dirty when Kale got me on the ground, outside."

"Sure, Corey," said Ren. "But will you be done with a bath in time for your show?"

"Oh, I'm not going to take a _bath_, Mr. Jordan . . . ." Corey smiled at Jenny, and then ran upstairs to the bathroom.

Corey Martindale had not taken a bath in over two months.

What would be the point? He had stopped taking toy boats in the tub with him over a year ago, so nothing needed to float. And it took a lot of time to take a bath; time that could be better spent doing other things. Besides, how could you really get clean by soaking in water that was dirty by the time you were done?

So instead, Corey had been taking showers for fifteen to twenty minutes at a time every night before going to bed. Sometimes, when he had been playing exceptionally hard (which was pretty much always,) or working outside, like washing his mom's '59 Buick or cutting the lawn, (which he had gotten big enough to do last summer,) he would shower twice a day.

And tonight, he _needed_ a good shower. Tonight, he was going to ask Jenny if she wanted to be his _girlfriend _. . . .

Corey had just dried off his hair and started to put on his pajamas when he ran into an unforeseen problem. He had worn his favorite blue-plaid PJ's for the past few weeks; but only the bottoms. He usually wore a tee-shirt to bed, instead of the tops that came with the set (if he even bothered to wear a shirt to bed at all.) This meant that the bottoms were pretty well broken-in, but the top looked like it just came out of the wrapper, which for all intent and purpose, it had – he had only worn the top once to try it on, and it had remained in his dresser drawer ever since.

Corey looked at himself in the mirror, and decided that the combination of the worn bottoms and the practically new top looked kind of dorky. Going shirtless was out of the question. Sure, Jenny had seen him without a shirt a lot of times, like whenever they went to swim at the beach or at the Collinsport Community Center pool.

But aside from the cold, Midwestern November, something about this situation was different. So Corey chose a clean, plain-white tee-shirt. He went to his suitcase and selected the best tee-shirt he could find, as well as a pair of new, white socks (which he could always remove later.) And as he did so, he caught a glimpse of the heart-shaped box and the homemade Valentine carefully packed underneath his folded clothes.

Corey had made the Valentine for Jenny over a three-week period that had begun in January and went into February. Along with the small box of chocolates, the whole thing cost him almost eight dollars. But at the last moment, he chickened-out, and gave Jenny one of the Valentines from the box his mom had bought him for the school Valentine's Day party. Now, with renewed courage, Corey had planned to give it to Jenny when he came over for the weekend when he "popped-the-question."

The immediate problem, Corey figured, would be getting to speak with Jenny in private. But while Corey had initially thought that Owen's unexpected presence had thrown the proverbial monkey-wrench into that plan; he now knew that he could count on his new friend for moral support, so getting that moment alone with Jenny would not be too difficult.

Corey came down the stairs just in time to catch the final five minutes of "Matthew Star." It was one of Jenny's favorite programs, and Corey knew to be quiet when it was on, though afterwards, they would discuss what they had seen as they speculated what, if anything, the writers knew about the real, hidden Wizarding World.

Owen noticed this as well, and even asked Jenny if she ever felt like Peter Barton's titular character when she was at school. A lively discussion followed and almost an hour later, none of the three friends could tell anyone what that night's episode of "Knight Rider" had been about. But even before it was over, Jenny said that she was tired and that they should all get to bed. Both Owen and Corey agreed, and the three friends said goodnight to each other.

Then Corey made his move, and asked Jenny if he could walk her to her room, upstairs. Jenny immediately agreed, and Corey caught Owen's "thumbs-up" as he escorted her to her room.

When they got to the door of Jenny's bedroom, Corey asked Jenny to wait a moment, because there was something that he brought that he wanted to give her. Seconds later, he was back, and handed Jenny the homemade Valentine and box of chocolates.

Jenny smiled, and said, "Oh, it's beautiful, Corey! A little late for Valentine's Day. But I really, really, like it!"

"I – I really, really, like _you_, Jenny," said Corey shyly. "I mean, we've known each other since we were really little kids and I wanted to ask you if you would like to . . . to be . . . ."

Jenny smiled wider than Corey thought was possible, and said, "I'd love to be your girlfriend, Corey Martindale!"

Corey smiled, and then said, "Wait, Jenny, did you just use legilimency on me?"

"Call it "women's intuition," said Jenny with a twinkle in her eye. "Besides, if you really want to get technical about it, we've kind of been boyfriend and girlfriend for some time now. Karen even saw it whenever we were all together."

Then, without warning, Jenny stood on her tiptoes, and kissed Corey on his cheek without as much as a sprig of mistletoe in sight. Then, Corey kissed her back, saluted her, and said, "Well, I guess we'd better get to bed, Auror Jennifer Jordan. We have a big day tomorrow!"

"Have a good night's sleep, Corey Martindale, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.!" Jenny said, returning his salute. After another quick peck on the cheek, Jenny went into her room, threw herself on the bed, and squealed with girlish delight! She could not wait to get on the mirror with Karen tomorrow, and tell her everything!

When Corey got back to the living room, where he and Owen would be crashing for the night, Owen's smile was almost as wide as Corey's as he said, "Well, how'd it go, dude?"

Corey just smiled and in his best Frankie Valli imitation sang, "Carried your books from school. Playin' make-believe you're married to me. You were Fifth Grade, I was Sixth, when we came to be . . . ."

"Way to go!" said Owen. "But don't say that I didn't warn you about _cooties_!" After a few more minutes of talking and horsing around, the boys turned off the lights and the TV and shortly afterwards, both boys fell into a contented sleep.

Corey thought, _I'm going to marry Jenny Jordan someday. I've loved her since I was in Second Grade, and I'm never gonna stop loving her . . . . _

As Jenny slept, she dreamed of dancing with Corey at their wedding. She and Corey had just finished their first dance as husband and wife when the door to the ballroom flew open, framing a single person who said, "Sorry I'm late . . . ."

Jenny gasped. It was Regina Mills and she was dressed in a regal, Gothic black gown. Jenny suddenly realized that now she and Corey were the only other people in the ballroom besides Regina. The intruder swiftly covered the distance from the door to where the young couple was standing. Moving just as quickly, Jenny stepped between the approaching witch from the Enchanted Realms and Corey, her wand at the ready.

"Oh, Jennifer _Martindale_," said Regina with a predatory smile. "I have not come here to ruin your moment. On the contrary, dear, I have come to give you a gift."

"We want nothing from you!" spat Jennifer.

"But you shall have it," countered Regina. "In fact, Dearie, I've already _given_ it to you. My gift to you was your first - and last - dance with your beloved. You've made your vows, and now I shall make mine! I hope you enjoyed your only dance as a married woman, because now, I vow to _destroy_ your happiness forever!"

There was something about the way that Regina enunciated the word "destroy" that made Jenny shiver slightly, but it did not stop her from casting a fierce volley of stunning spell at the evil woman. Jenny blinked as Regina vanished in a swirling burst of blue smoke before any of her spells could take her down. Jenny said, "Corey, stay close to me! I've got to get you to safety!"

But from behind her, Corey said, "J-Jenny . . . ?"

Jenny turned around to see that Regina had short-range apparated and was standing with her right hand in Corey's chest. With a maniacal laugh, she withdrew her hand, clutching Corey's heart.

"Help me, Jenny! I'm scared!" pleaded Corey. "Stop her before she –" Corey clutched his chest as Regina squeezed his heart into dust as the young man fell to the ballroom floor, dead . . . .

. . . . Jenny woke up drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. The clock on her nightstand said 2:38 am. Jenny jumped out of bed and quickly ran downstairs to check on Corey. Though the downstairs lights were off, some light was coming through a crack in the curtains, courtesy of the streetlights. Jenny breathed a sigh of relief when she saw both boys sleeping soundly. Jenny spent a few moments watching the steady rise and fall of Corey's chest as he breathed, and then went back upstairs. But instead of going to her room, she went to her parents' room, knocking softly on the door, somewhat surprised that her father immediately told her to come in. Once inside, Jenny could see that her father had not changed for bed, and was still in the clothes that he had on when he met her in Principal Burr's office. Though it had only been about 12 hours since then; to Jenny it felt like it was _eons_ ago.

Ren smiled at his daughter, and said, "Can't sleep either, huh, Jenny?"

"Actually, I fell asleep a little after I went to bed. Corey asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend."

Ren raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "I thought that you already were his girlfriend, honey."

"Daddy, I had a . . . _a bad dream_ . . . ." Jenny told her father about watching his memory in the pensieve about what happened in the Professor's motel room while she, Ricky and Professor Roberts' daughter Tammy hid under the makeshift tent. Then Jenny told her father about her nightmare where Regina killed Corey by taking his heart and crushing it and how she was powerless to stop her.

"I've never heard of anyone doing magic like what Regina does, Daddy. No wands, words or gestures. She just does what she wants, to whoever she wants, whenever she wants . . . ."

Ren nodded. "Regina does seem to be a pretty powerful witch, Jenny."

"And s-she's here in _our_ world," said Jenny. "Back home in Maine. But what if she comes _here_, where _we_ are, now?"

"Jenny, the FBS has Storybrooke surrounded with Aurors and Whitelighters," said Ren reassuringly as Jenny looked up at him with tear-streaked, sleep deprived eyes that he thought were no less beautiful. "If Regina Mills so much as _sneezes_, the FBS will be there with a tissue and a one-way ticket to Miskatonic Penitentiary for what she did to Owen and his dad."

"But what if Regina leaves Storybrooke without our Aurors knowing, Daddy?" persisted Jenny. "She's so powerful! What if she comes _here_? Do you think that she knows about _us_? I mean our _family_; not just that we can do magic in this world, too. My dream was so real!"

"Well, Jenny, I don't think that we –"

"Can you stop Regina Mills if she comes here after us, Daddy?" said Jenny looking hopefully at him with wide eyes. "I mean, you've got your wand, and all!"

"Jenny, darling, I –"

"But you _can_ do something to take out Regina before she can hurt us, Daddy, right?"

"Jenny . . . ."

"But, I mean, what if the _Lovegoods_ were still here and all, when Regina came over? A-and if Corey's _mom_ was here too, and his _dad _and my _mom_ were also here, and they were packin' shotguns and stuff . . . ?"

Ren Jordan had been dreading a moment like this. Most fathers (most _parents_, for that matter,) dreaded the moment when their children asked if they can protect them from the Bad Guys. Ren wanted to reassure his daughter that he would do everything possible to keep her and her little brother and her mom safe.

But Ren also knew that he did not have any formal training as a duelist, much less as a warrior-mage. The list of spells that he could _not_ do was far longer than the spell that he knew. If Ren Jordan was to keep his family safe from a threat like Regina Mills - or any other possible threat - then he would need to have a plan. And as a simple plan came unbidden into his mind, he _also_ realized that he could reassure his daughter without giving her false hope.

Ren said, "Jenny, Owen's father's a muggle. But he was able to get his son to safety when Regina was trying to keep them from leaving Storybrooke. And the Flynns certainly didn't have any plan in place for dealing with a witch from the Enchanted Realms. But despite all that, Owen's father did his job – he kept his son safe.

Well, Jenny, it's my job to protect _my_ family. So for me to do this, I think that it's a good idea for us to have an actual plan in place ahead of time. That way, if something bad like what happened to the Flynns were to happen to us, we'll know what to do and we'll be ready for it."

"W-what d'you mean, daddy?"

"Well, remember in the pensieve memory how Owen's dad told him to run, but he _hesitated_ and Regina was able to walk right up to him and put her hands on his shoulders? I think that we can do a little better . . . .

"So for starters if - G-d forbid - we find ourselves in a situation like the Flynns were in; when I tell you to run, then you _run_! Run fast and hard! I should not have to tell you twice. And that also means if something is happening to me - like when the Storybrooke Sheriff was cuffing Owen's dad - you run when I tell you to run without any hesitation! Got it?"

Jenny nodded, and her father continued. "Good girl. Now, when Owen finally did run, he just ran until the police found him, right? But when I tell you to run, you will have a _destination_ in mind!"

"Where should I run to?"

"You must find a place where there are a lot of people, like a strip mall, a movie theater, or a large store. Once you find a place like that, anybody chasing you will think twice before they try to do anything bad to you with so many witnesses around, even if those witnesses are muggles.

"Then, you find a telephone. You've memorized the emergency number for the FBS?" Jenny nodded. "Then call it. Tell whoever answers that you need help, and there will be an Auror or a Whitelighter there before you can hang up the telephone to keep you safe. And I mean that quite literally. The person who answers the phone will _not_ hang up on you until they know that there is someone there to protect you."

"But what about _you_, daddy?" said Jenny softly. "I mean, if it's your job to keep our family safe, doesn't that include you, too?"

Ren thought for a moment, relieved that his daughter looked calmer than when she first came into his room, and then said, "Once _you_ are safe, then I can face _any_ threat without worrying about you and your brother and your mom. Then, you can tell the person sent to protect you what happened to us, and then they can send someone to check on _me_."

"But, Daddy, what if you're hurt, or –"

"Jennifer, the only way that you can help me is to get yourself, and maybe even your little brother, away from the danger and to somewhere safe! If there is trouble, there is no way that you can protect me against adults; especially against adult magic users. And if you try, they will hurt you, too! My job's to protect my family by being sure that you can get to safety. Your job's to do what I told you to do in an emergency situation so I can do my job. You can send help for me when you're safe.

"Now, what are you supposed to do if I tell you to run?"

"I run as fast and as hard as I can and find someplace with a lot of people and call the FBS."

Ren raised an eyebrow. "Haven't you forgotten something, sweetheart?"

"I – I don't think so, Daddy."

Ren said patiently, "You run the _first time_ that I tell you to run."

"Yes, Daddy," said Jenny, nodding emphatically. "I'll run the first time you tell me to."

"Very good, sweetheart," said Ren with a touch of relief. "Now, do you think that you can get yourself to bed, now? We have a very big day tom-" Ren checked his watch, rolled his eyes and sighed. "I mean, a _few hours_ from now - _today_. It already _is_ Saturday. Would you like me to tuck you in, Jenny?"

Jenny smiled, kissed her father goodnight, and said, "That's alright, Daddy. That bad dream was scary, but I think I'm fine, now." Jenny was about to go back into her room, but decided to check up on Corey one more time before she tried to get some sleep, herself. She spent a few moments watching both Corey and Owen sleep contentedly. Corey was sleeping on the floor in his sleeping bag. Owen was on the couch under a blanket, since he did not have a sleeping bag (his own sleeping bag, Jenny knew, was probably still in Storybrooke.)

Looking closely at Corey, Jenny could see that his eyes were moving under his closed eyelids. Jenny knew this meant that he was in a deep sleep, and dreaming. Jenny saw that Corey was also smiling, an indication that whatever he was dreaming about, it was a happy dream. That made Jenny smile, too. _I'm going to marry that boy, someday . . . . _

For a moment, Jenny considered getting her blanket and curling up on the chair in their living room. But she remembered what Owen's Uncle had said about being uncomfortable with the idea of "boy/girl sleepovers," and decided to go back to her room in case Owen's Uncle Sean came over unexpectedly and saw them all camped out in the same room. Jenny hoped that she could fall asleep for at least some of the three hours that she had before everyone had to get up and get ready to go to Salem.

But as Jenny started up the stairs, she saw that the light was on in the kitchen. She went over to check it out, and when she got closer, she could hear her father speaking with the Lovegoods. Jenny quietly tiptoed to the kitchen door, peeked in, and realized that she was the only person in the house under eleven who was still awake.

Mr. Lovegood was saying, ". . . not _exactly_ what they said, Ren."

"Sure they did, Xeno," said Ren. "They both did, when Owen asked them. You were there!"

Dori said, "No, Ren. What Agent Spellman said was, "I promise you that we will do everything within our power to _help you_, Owen." And then later, just before the Aurors left, Agent Graymalkin said, "We will do everything in our power to _help you_, Owen. That is a promise!"

Xeno said, "But what Owen _actually_ asked them on _both_ occasions was, "Will you be able to _get my father_ back from Regina?" And the Aurors did not answer his question either time."

"Well . . . sure they did," said Ren, now with a touch of uncertainty. "I mean, that's what I heard them say."

"That's what you and Owen _inferred_ from what they said," said Xeno. "That's what we were _all _meant to infer from what they said. A proper answer to Owen's questions would have mentioned his father _specifically_: "Yes, Owen, we will do everything in our power to _rescue your father _from Storybrooke."

Ren raised an eyebrow. "I think that you might be the one "inferring," now, Xeno. I mean, you are not a legilimens, uh, or are you?"

"No, Ren," said Xeno. "Neither Dori nor I are capable of legilimency. But whatever else we may be, we are journalists."

"Some people would say that we are "Crusading Journalists," Ren," added Dori. "Over the years, Xeno and I have interviewed many people in positions of authority. And during that time, we have developed what you might call a "sixth-sense" that tells us when someone is telling the truth, lying, or something else in between."

"You really think that the FBS has no intention of helping Owen?" said Ren.

"No, I think that they do plan to do something to "help" Owen," said Xeno. "Just not what he wants them to do and rescue his father."

"Then let's find out what they plan to do for Owen before we go to Salem in a couple of hours." Ren Jordan went to the telephone and called the FBS so they could express their concern about Owen while the children were still sleeping; or so they all thought.

None of the adults in the Jordans' kitchen heard the ten year old girl just outside the kitchen door, much less noticed her as she waited along with them for answers . . . .


	20. Noblesse Oblige

**Chapter 20: Noblesse Oblige**

Lucius Malfoy would never say as much aloud, but now he secretly wondered if maybe he _should_ have taken that accursed Muggle Studies class when he was a student at Hogwarts. The information provided by such a course would undoubtedly have proven to be invaluable at the moment as he, his wife, and their son were by necessity, staying at a muggle hotel in the middle of the North American Colonies.

Although the Chase Park Plaza Hotel, (which was in an area known to the locals as the St. Louis Central West End,) had a very high rating by muggle standards, the Malfoy family found it difficult to get comfortable there. Lucius further reflected that, under the circumstances, that was probably a good thing. Too much comfort caused one to get lax and complacent. Discomfort, on the other hand, helped one to keep their guard up constantly. Still, the unfamiliarity of it all was somewhat disquieting. And while a Malfoy could handle all manner of discomfort - especially in the service of the Greater Good for Wizardkind - a feeling of disquietedness was something else altogether.

The private flat that the Malfoys had leased was undoubtedly opulent by muggle standards, and included something called "Cable TV," which the landlord proudly pointed out when he showed them the living room. When he did, Lucius nodded, feigning being impressed. But after less than an hour in their rented flat, Lucius covered the blank screen of the "Cable TV" with a large bathroom towel, as it seemed like it was a dead eye that followed him around the room wherever he went.

While Draco's nanny was putting him to bed for the night in one of the smaller bedrooms, Lucius and Narcissa kept vigil in the living room by the telephone. Lucius continued to ruminate about the past few days in his chair as Narcissa was reading a book of Shakespeare's plays while she waited by the telephone for their instructions. Lucius admired his wife's ability to do whatever was necessary for the cause and actually use a telephone, as he felt sullied simply by being in the same room with such a quintessentially muggle device.

But the Colonial Aurors were undoubtedly monitoring the mirrors, scrying orbs, and the Owl Post; all the more so since the Arrival from the Enchanted Realms appeared a few weeks ago and threw them into a tizzy. Because of this, the muggle telephone would be safer to use – and the Colonial Wizarding Authorities would never expect anyone from such an ancient, Pure Blood Wizarding family such as the Malfoys to make use of _any_ muggle communications device; thereby leaving it unmonitored.

Still, Lucius could not bring himself to touch the accursed thing. Even the feel of the material – plastic – made him uncomfortable. Though it superficially felt like polished tusk or horn, Lucius knew that it was something else, entirely; something wholly man-made that might poison him with its unnatural muggle potions called "chemicals." And if that were not enough, the device itself worked on _electricity_, a muggle force that could be quite dangerous and unpredictable.

In fact, the entire flat was electrified! Lucius felt nervous whenever he had to enter a dark room and light it by moving a "switch" on the wall. In fact, whenever he had to light the room, he would flip the switch with a pencil to keep from touching it directly. And because of a muggle device called a "smoke detector," using a proper oil lamp instead of the electric lighting would be out of the question.

A soft "click" followed by the sound of a constant, gentle wind told Lucius that the device on the wall called a "thermostat" was automatically warming the room, which was not even equipped with a proper fireplace. Lucius wrinkled his nose; absolutely certain that the miasma of the fireless, heated air was making him ill.

Though Narcissa noticed her husband's discomfort, she said nothing. Her husband's fear and loathing was entirely justifiable. But she was also the practical one in the marriage. She was, after all, a _mother_ who had a _son_ whose future needed protection. And to do this, if she had to stay in a flat that was lighted and even heated by muggle means and communicate with a muggle telephone or radio, then she would do what needs must be done without question or pause. This involved a crash-course in muggle culture and "technology;" the substitutes for magic these non-magical people made use of ever since they drove the mages of this world into the shadows.

The telephone finally rang. Not a gentle tinkle like a bell that one would use to summon a servant, but a loud, obnoxious sound that commanded immediate attention. In the other room, Draco began to cry almost as loudly as the ring of that infernal contraption as his nanny attempted to gently soothe the frightened boy. Narcissa allowed the device to ring one more time before picking up the part used to listen and speak to the one calling from the other end.

"Are you there?" said Narcissa in a very businesslike manner. Then she said nothing as she listened to whoever was calling, taking notes and every so often stating that she understood perfectly. After a few more minutes of this, Narcissa said, "Goodbye," and returned the speaking/listening part to its cradle.

"What news do we have?" said Lucius anxiously.

But Narcissa ignored her husband's urgency, and said, "In a moment. I need to check on Draco, first." Lucius nodded, and Narcissa went to check on their fussing son. What seemed to Lucius like an eternity later, Draco calmed down, and Narcissa came back to advise her husband of what had been discovered and what needed to be done to assure the future of Wizardkind.

"The muggle boy, Owen Flynn, who claims to have been inside the Arrival is, indeed, here in this area," said Narcissa. He is staying with his father's brother."

"A muggle," said Lucius dryly. "Then we can take him easily."

"However," continued Narcissa. "There is an _unforeseen_ problem that has emerged. The boy is currently staying overnight with a schoolmate for the weekend."

"That is of no consequence," said Lucius with an impatient, dismissive wave of his hand. "One muggle is as easily overpowered as any other."

"This classmate is a _witch_," said Narcissa. "Her family was among those evacuated from Maine by FBS Order on the eve of the Arrival. And to make matters worse, she is the young witch who we first met at the Displaced Wizards' Center not long after we came to the Colonies."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Who is it? I can't recall us having met any of the local wizards and witches. And why would we want to? The mages in the Colonies are half-bloods and mudbloods, the lot of them!"

"Oh, our meeting them was not by choice," said Narcissa. "The muggle boy is at this moment staying with the Jordan family."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Who . . . ?"

Narcissa sighed. "You remember the Jordans; the blood-traitor of the Peverell line and his obnoxious, slutty muggle wife and their two half-blood guttersnipes? Surely you must remember their insolent daughter and their dirty-faced son who was Draco's age?"

"Yes . . . ," said Lucius nodding slowly. "I do recall meeting those urchins in the ballroom of the Displaced Wizard's Center - the ones who were dressed in rags and were playing with those two muggle brats." Lucius shook his head. Say what you will about families like the Gaunts. But they would _never_ have stooped so _low_ as to allow their children to play with _muggles_!

"But what of it?" said Lucius. "Lawrence Jordan might as well be a muggle, himself! He is a wizard in name only! He is merely a _tradesman_ with no formal magical education who married that muggle tart doubtlessly because no true witch would have him! He poses no threat!"

"No," agreed Narcissa. "But we know about the muggle boy because of our contact within the American FBS."

"Again, what of it?"

Narcissa sighed patiently. "The FBS knows about the muggle boy because the Jordans _contacted_ them to let them know! Our sources tell us that the Jordans will be taking the boy to Salem tomorrow morning to be interviewed by Colonial Aurors. And we must get that boy before that may happen."

"Then we should go, _now_," said Lucius. "That twit Ren Jordan would be no match for me in a Wizards' Duel! I can defeat him in seconds!"

"Ah, but Ren Jordan is not alone," said Narcissa. "The _Lovegoods_ are staying with them; no doubt to better facilitate keeping _us_ under observation. Ren Jordan may indeed be little more than a jumped-up muggle. But Xenophilius and Pandora Lovegood are another matter, entirely.

"Though we can count our blessings that Jordan's muggle dollymop wife is not with him, at the moment; our sources say that she went back to Collinsport to retrieve some of their family's belongings that had to be left behind when the Colonials Mages ran like frightened rats from the Arrival. True, she cannot do _magic_. But she doubtlessly has access to _muggle_ weapons like a machine gun or a plasma rifle, or maybe even an atomic bomb . . . ." Lucius looked at his wife incomprehensively. Again, Narcissa shook her head, sighed patiently, and said, "Would it _really _harm you if you took a little time to read our group's pamphlet, "When Muggles Attack?"

Lucius smiled, shrugged, and said, "That is why I married you, Cissy. You always were the more practical one of us two. I count on you for these things."

Narcissa smiled thinly, and said, "Then we should contact the other members of our team, and be prepared to seize the boy before he may be taken to Salem and interviewed by the Colonial Authorities."

Lucius nodded, and Narcissa went back to the telephone to call the others. The boy staying with a magical family – even a working-class one like the Jordans – does complicate matters, but does not present any truly insurmountable problems for those who believe in the Wizarding Identity Thesis. As Narcissa spoke on the muggle device, Lucius got out of his chair, and went into the room where Draco was sleeping under the watchful eye of his nanny. Lucius spent a few moments watching his son sleep soundly and allowed himself to smile.

"Soon, Draco," said Lucius barely louder than a whisper. "Soon, you shall live in a world free from fear for Our Kind. We all will! A world where only true wizards and witches are in control. A world free from blood-traitors and mudbloods. And in a few hours, we shall make the first move, and the obnoxious Jordan family shall be the first to feel our wrath!"

Then, after watching Draco sleep a little longer, Lucius Malfoy, late of the Death Eaters and the Knights of Walpurgis, firm believer in the Wizarding Identity Movement, went back into the living room of the flat to await the arrival of the other members of their team.

But while Lucius absolutely loathed Ren Jordan, the father in him felt sorry for the two Jordan children, even their cheeky daughter – _especially_ their cheeky daughter, Jennifer. Her poor manners (which she no doubt got from her low-class muggle mother,) can be corrected with proper education and emersion into the True and Proper Wizarding World. And then, a proper betrothal could be arranged for her, if nothing else to keep her away from the Martindale boy.

This would be something that Narcissa would need to look into, once the Wizarding World belonged to the Purebloods. Lucius thought that perhaps a betrothal could be arranged for Jennifer Jordan with either Bill or Charles Weasley, (though they would probably need rehabilitation, themselves,) or maybe even the Worple's boy, Eldred, once the Wizarding Identity Thesis brought sanity to the world.

The Jordans' boy, Richard, would be an easier matter, due to his age. Above all else, the Jordan boy is a descendant of the Peverell family, and that alone made him more than worth the effort to rehabilitate.

Lucius even wondered if Richard and Draco might be raised as brothers, but was roused from his ruminations when he heard a knock at the flat's door. The other members of their team had arrived . . . .

A gentle knock at the Jordan's back door let Ren and the Lovegoods know that the Aurors had arrived to speak with them regarding how the FBS planned to help Owen Flynn. Behind the kitchen door, Jenny was somewhat surprised to see that Agent Hadji Quest-Singh and Agent Wednesday Addams had come instead of Agents Spellman and Graymalkin.

Jenny noticed that her dad and the Lovegoods were surprised, too. Agents Quest-Singh stated that Agents Spellman and Graymalkin were taking a rest to be ready when they came for Owen and the others in a few more hours to escort them to Salem.

"We should be able to answer any additional questions that you may have before they get here," said Agent Addams.

"We only have one question," said Xeno evenly. "Does the FBS plan to rescue Owen Flynn's father from the town of Storybrooke, or do they not have any plans to rescue Owen's father?"

A long silence followed. Then Agent Addams said, "Mr. Lovegood, what you and everyone else here need to understand about the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms is that –"

"No double-talk, please, Agent Addams," said Dori, who pointed in Jenny's direction, making the girl freeze and hold her breath. But it soon became apparent to Jenny that Mrs. Lovegood was gesturing to the living room where Corey and Owen were sleeping, making the girl let out a quiet sigh of relief. "Please answer my husband's simple question: Do you or do you not have any intentions of rescuing Owen's father, Kurt Flynn, from the invaders from the Enchanted Realms who are holding him prisoner, or worse?

Agent Quest-Singh said, "Mrs. Lovegood, if you would please let us explain –"

"Explain _nothing_," said Ren. "Just _answer _the question, yes or no?"

Adding authority to her voice, Agent Addams said, "This question cannot be answered with a simple yes or no – it is complicated. But if you would let us explain, we may be able to give you an answer that you will understand completely."

Xeno said, "That would be Bureaucratese for, "no, we are not going to rescue Kurt Flynn from the Invaders," wouldn't it be?"

"No, we are not," said Agent Quest-Singh evenly. "Or, more accurately, it would not be in everyone's best interest if we tried – and even _succeeded_ \- in rescuing Mr. Flynn."

Ren said, "This should be good . . . ."

"And that would be Ignorant Civilian-ese for, "I am ready to patiently listen to your explanation now, Agents Addams and Quest-Singh," said Agent Wednesday Addams dryly as Agent Quest-Singh gave her an admonishing look.

Agent Quest-Singh said, "Mr. Jordan, eventually rescuing Kurt Flynn is not _completely_ out of the question. But it is not _possible_, at least for now . . . ."

Ren Jordan shook his head and chuckled bitterly. "You know, I can only imagine what would have happened if it was, say, Gomez Addams and Agent Addams and her brother when they were Owen's age. The richest wizard in the nation, if not the world, and his kids trapped inside an Incursion from the Enchanted Realms that landed on them while they were out camping? Even if the FBS didn't send in _every_ available Auror and Whitelighter that they had, the Addams family would have at least had a chance to _fight_ their way out with magic, and get clear of the Incursion on their own.

"And what if it had _your dad_, Agent Quest-Singh? What if it were Dr. Benton Quest and you and your brother on that camping trip when the two of you were ten? Even though you might not have had much magic at that age; I think that every Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. – if not the Fantastic Four, or even _The Avengers_ \- would have been sent in to get your family out. And _please_ don't insult my intelligence by trying to deny it. Your father is too important a person to lose to alien invaders from a parallel dimension.

"Now, if it was me and _my_ family out camping that night; we might not have rated a full-on assault by the FBS or S.H.I.E.L.D. But we wouldn't have been _defenseless_, either. I may only be a Joe Lunchbucket who works in the lumber department of a hardware store and fixes racing brooms on weekends, but I am a _wizard_, and I would have at least had a decent chance to get my family to safety without any outside help.

"But Kurt Flynn is just an Average Joe who also happens to be a muggle. So to keep this witch Regina Mills from finding out that we can do magic here, too; you are going to abandon Kurt Flynn and his son to their fate."

Agent Addams sighed. "Mr. Jordan, in the past few weeks, we have learned a lot more about the Incursion, and what we have learned frankly has us worried."

"And since you three will eventually be obliviated, we are able to tell you what we know as of this time," added Agent Quest-Singh. "Then, maybe you will understand our position."

"Why do that?" said Xeno. "Why tell us anything if you are only going to obliviated us tomorrow in Salem?"

Agent Addams smiled sardonically. "We're telling you for _us_, Mr. Lovegood; for myself and Hadji. I'm telling you so you will _understand_ why the FBS does not plan to rescue Kurt Flynn at this time. And when I tell you why, I am sure that you will agree wholeheartedly with the FBS's decision. At least then, you won't simply dismiss us as smug, heartless bureaucrats."

Agent Quest-Singh said, "As you pointed out earlier, you won't remember, but _we_ will. Let's just say it is important for _our_ morale that you know the truth and understand, however briefly."

"Don't think for one minute," said Agent Addams firmly. "That we do not care about Owen, or that we are abandoning his father to Regina Mills just because he is too 'unimportant' to be worth the effort."

The Lovegoods fixed the Aurors with a stony stare. Ren Jordan just sighed, shrugged, and said, "Alright, what have you got?"

Agent Addams said bluntly, "A potential enemy that we cannot defeat whose magic is greater than ours; maybe even greater than the magic of the Sorcerer Supreme himself, as well."

"What are you talking about?" said Ren shaking his head.

"The spell – or rather, the _Curse_ – that brought the Incursion over here was no ordinary curse," said Agent Quest-Singh. "I've studied it extensively – at least as much as I can without using active magic to probe it directly.

"This Curse was crafted in layers - like an onion or lasagna - with each layer intended to perform a specific task. One layer was used to bring the town from the Enchanted Realms over to our world; another layer to adapt it to our world – changing horse-drawn carriages and wagons into cars, for example; another layer to implant the knowledge of how our world works so those who were cursed could survive and function by making the transition from a Medieval world to 20th Century America."

"And there are other layers to the Curse, as well," said Agent Addams. "Concealment and disillusionment spells to hide Storybrooke from our world. Not even S.H.I.E.L.D. satellites with their Extra-Terrestrial-supplied hardware can see Storybrooke from orbit."

Ren blinked. _Extra-terrestrial_ hardware . . . ? He quickly glanced over at Xeno and Dori, who didn't even raise an eyebrow at Agent Addams' comment.

Agent Addams continued, "But even more worrisome is the layer that _superposes_ Storybrooke with the old-growth forest in Maine so that they may both occupy the same physical space at once. And it is _that's_ layer that has us worried the most.

"Mr. Jordan, our resident nerd Agent Graymalkin told us that you took your daughter and her friend Corey to see "Galaxy Quest II: The Wrath of Sarris." _Now_ do you understand what I am saying . . . ?"

Ren Jordan drew a quick breath as the implications of Agent Addams' "Galaxy Quest" analogy rudely dawned on him. The Curse that brought Storybrooke from the Enchanted Realms to our world was kind of like the magical equivalent of the fictional super technology from "The Wrath of Sarris." In the movie, the crew of the _NSEA Protector_ had to recover the Terraform Probe - an invention that could transform uninhabitable worlds into virtual garden paradises - from the show's most popular villain, General Sarris.

In the movie, the Terraform Probe was created for peaceful, benign purposes.

But if it were to be used on a world that was _already_ populated . . . .

Ren Jordan shook in spite of himself. "Whoa . . . ."

"I see that you have _finally_ put two-and-two together, Mr. Jordan," said Agent Addams, but not unkindly. "All that Regina Mills has to do is leave off a few "layers" the next time she cast her Curse to hit us hard! Instead of _superposing_ a town on a section of old-growth forest in Maine, she could just as easily _replace_ the forest with a town. Or, for that matter, an already populated area with whatever she wanted – just like that. And we would be absolutely _powerless_ to stop her." Agent Addams looked over at the Lovegoods, whose eyes were quite sober with understanding.

Agent Quest-Singh added softly, "This is the _hydrogen bomb_ of curses, Mr. Jordan. If we send a team of Aurors or Whitelighters into the Incursion for _any_ reason, Regina Mills would undoubtedly retaliate. Believe me, I feel sorry for Owen Flynn and his father. But there is no practical way for us to rescue Kurt Flynn without possibly starting a magical, interdimensional war that we _cannot_ win under any circumstances." Hadji thought of the Osterhagen Key that the White Council had recently took possession of. Though he was of Warrior as well as Wizarding Stock, the thought made Hadji shudder. _But if it were to be employed, at least we could go out taking some of _them_ – Regina Mills included – with us . . . ._

Agent Addams said, "So you see, Mr. Jordan, Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood, even if it _had_ been my or Hadji's family; the FBS or S.H.I.E.L.D. would have been just as unable to rescue us, too. Even worse, if my family had tried to fight their way out, we might emerge from the Incursion to find out that big chunks of our world have been replaced by the invaders with whatever they wanted to put on it. And Hadji's family would have been in the same situation."

"But that doesn't mean that we are unable to _help_ Owen," said Agent Quest-Singh. "We may not be able to rescue his father from the Invaders. But when we copy his memories of what he saw when he was inside the Incursion, we will also be able to subtly change them to allow Owen to get on with his life."

"In other words, you'll make him forget what happened to his father?" said Ren flatly.

"No," said Agent Quest-Singh. "We will give him _new memories_ that his father died in an accident, and implant a geas that will allow him to _accept _his loss and to move on with his life. The ripple-effect of the obliviation will even allow him to fit in better at his new school by "rewriting" the past week of his life – a process that, might I add, be undone should we ever have the opportunity to actually rescue Mr. Flynn."

"In other words, Mr. Jordan," said Agent Addams softly. "What we do will give Owen the opportunity to grow up as a typical child, and move forward with his life . . . ."

Ren looked over to Xeno and Dori, whose stony looks of Journalists Demanding Answers had been transfigured into expressions of grim understanding.

"It is of the utmost importance," said Agent Quest-Singh. "That we are able to learn what Owen has seen. He is the only person from our world to have been inside the Incursion, and has emerged to tell us about it."

"Then why not just tell him the truth?" said Ren. "Why not just tell him that we are not able to rescue his father right now, but that we may be able to in the near future after he tells us what he saw when he was in Storybrooke? He may have accepted it, then, and we wouldn't have to lie to him."

"Or, he may not have accepted our explanation and refused to help us at all," said Agent Addams. "And given what we are up against, we cannot take any chances that we may not have his willing cooperation."

Agent Quest-Singh added, "And when we say, "we," Mr. Jordan, we don't just mean the FBS and the White Council. We also mean S.H.I.E.L.D., The Avengers, NATO, the Warsaw Pact, and others. Owen Flynn may be our _only_ key to defending our world against these invaders, and without his absolute cooperation, we are right back to Square One."

Agent Addams said, "And we will also need your cooperation, as well, Mr. Jordan, Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood."

And Then Agent Addams turned to the kitchen door, and said, "And that goes for you as well, Jennifer Jordan."

From behind the door, Jenny swallowed hard. Just how long did Agent Addams know she was hiding there? But of everything that Jenny wanted to ask at that moment, that was the lowest priority. Jenny got off her knees, and slowly went into the kitchen, moving to her father's side.

"How much did you just hear, Jenny," said Agent Addams in a tone that was more sad than upset.

"E-everything, A-Agent Addams," said Jenny.

"Then you understand," continued Agent Addams. "Why we cannot help Owen the way he wants us to, at this time."

"I-it's so unfair," said Jenny barely louder than a whisper.

"It is, isn't it," said Agent Quest-Singh nodding solemnly. "But for now, we are limited to helping Owen by giving him what he needs, not what he wants, much less _deserves_."

"B-but why can't we just go into Storybrooke and hit Regina Mills with everything we've got!" said Jenny. "Owen said that he didn't see any orcs, ogres or dragons in there. If we could surround Storybrooke with Aurors, Whitelighters, and the Avengers and muggles in tanks and flying over Storybrooke in jet fighters, I bet Regina would surrender and give Owen's dad back!"

Agent Wednesday Addams went over to Jenny and put her hands on her thin shoulders. "Honey, Regina does not _have_ any orcs, ogres or dragons because she does not _need_ any to fight us. This _curse_ of hers is all that she needs. Even the Sorcerer Supreme has advised caution until we know more."

Ren shook his head; a gesture that was one part fatigue and one part frustration. "As much as I hate to say it, Jenny, I think that we should do what the Aurors say. I'm worried about Owen and his dad as much as you are. But I am also worried about you, your little brother, and your mother, as well as Cory, Karen and everyone else that we know."

Xeno added, "And I am worried about my family, as well. My wife. Luna. If we so much as make a rude gesture at Regina Mills, she may just erase us all from existence."

Jenny's face began to turn red, her eyes began to water, and she cried hard, shaking with frustration. Her father and the Lovegoods tensed, but before they could say anything, Agent Addams had her wand out, and cast a Disillusionment Charm in the direction of the kitchen doorway.

Agent Addams nodded to Ren, who nodded back, gently held his daughter, and said, "It's alright, honey, let it all out. You won't wake Corey, Owen, Luna or your brother. Truth is I kind of feel a bit like crying, myself." Ren looked over at Agent Addams, and said, "I don't suppose there is any chance of getting that obliviation performed on us now, is there?"

"As much as it goes against every Journalistic bone in my body," said Xeno. "I think that the Missus and I could use a memory edit, ourselves." Dori nodded solemnly.

"I wish that we could get obliviated, too," said Agent Addams sincerely, indicating herself and Hadji. "But we have a duty to perform; not just for the Wizarding World, but to everyone else in this world, as well. And we cannot help you now because neither Hadji nor I are trained as Obliviators."

"As I said, you will all have your memories altered when this is over," said Agent Quest-Singh. He then turned to Jenny, who had calmed down some, but still had a wet, red face from crying, and added, "By this time, tomorrow, you won't even remember us being here, much less making a daytrip to Salem. Your only memory will be of having a sleepover with your friends."

"And your only "serious" worry," added Ren, "will be of how you and Owen are going to finish the three-page paper that Principal Burr assigned the two of you to write over the weekend."

"You probably won't even have to worry about that," said Xeno. "The ripple-effect of the obliviation will undoubtedly erase your revelation of Our World to Owen yesterday afternoon."

"As far as the entire world is concerned," said Dori. "The two of you will have never left the school grounds in the first place."

Jenny smiled wanly at that, wiping her eyes and nose with the sleeve of her pajamas. Ren shook his head, and sighed. Dori said, "Don't worry, I've got it." And with a swish and flick of her wand, the sleeve of Jenny's pajamas was clean and dry. Jenny thanked Mrs. Lovegood and apologized to her father for her breech of etiquette.

Then Agent Addams motioned for Jenny to sit at the Jordans' kitchen table, took the seat opposite her, and said, "The next twelve hours, or so, will be very difficult for you. You will need to behave as thought this conversation never happened; especially when you are around Owen. Then, when we are finished with collecting Owen's memories of Storybrooke, we can begin the process of memory modification. Then you and Owen can be children, again."

"And I can worry about simple things again, too," said Ren sighing. "Like the household budget and stuff . . . ." Ren tried not to look at the refrigerator full of Shmoo milk, butter and eggs.

Agent Addams said nothing. Agent Quest-Singh looked at his watch, and said, "Sue and Andre – I mean Agents Spellman and Graymalkin - will be here in a couple of hours to escort you to Salem. We had better be on our way, ourselves."

"I know that sleep is probably out of the question," said Agent Addams. "But at least try to get some rest until then. And don't worry, Jenny. It will all be over, soon."

"W-what should I do when Corey and Owen wake up?"

"Just be yourself, Jenny," said Agent Addams smiling. "Just be yourself. Are you alright, now?" When Jenny nodded with only a slight sniffle, Agent Addams waved her wand to remove the Disillusionment Charm from the kitchen door, and added, "You'll do just fine, Honorary Junior Auror Jordan."

Jenny kissed her father goodnight, (good morning?) said goodnight to the Lovegoods and Agents Addams and Quest-Singh, and then went over to the stairs to go back to her room. When she got to the stairs, Jenny paused to take another look at Corey and Owen sleeping soundly. Again, Jenny considered curling up on the chair in the living room where the boys were sleeping. She knew that she would not sleep, herself, and thought it might be a good thing if she were to stand watch over them to keep them safe. But Jenny did not want to take any chances that she might wake them up, and so she moved quietly back to the stairs.

When Jenny got to her room, she hesitated for a moment, and quietly checked in on Ricky as he slept in his own room. Her little brother was sound asleep with his thumb in his mouth and his little rear end in the air, making Jenny suppress a giggle. For a moment, she considered curling up in his bed with him, but again, was afraid of waking him up. So Jenny went back to her room. She sat on her bed, unable to sleep, and decided to read a bit of "_The Outsiders_," hoping that reading something would help her fall asleep. At the very least, it would give her something to discuss with Tonya at school on Monday.

Monday . . . .

By Monday, everything would be better. She would get to be a child again, as Agent Addams had said. And so could Owen. But until then, Jenny would have to carry an adult-sized burden to ensure that Owen would cooperate. Jenny understood the importance of this, but Owen is her friend, and Jenny did not like having to lie to a friend, for _any_ reason.

Though Jenny did not know what would happen when all was said and done, she was absolutely sure about one thing: She never wanted to play 'Aurors and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.,' _ever_ again . . . .

_Author's Note:__ This story is something of an experiment for me. From the beginning, I decided to write this story as I go along; posting it a chapter at a time, with only a basic idea of what will come next and how it would eventually end. I do hope to bring this story to a conclusion by the end of the year (2015,) but I will be posting my new chapters at a much slower rate than before, so please bear with me._

_I want to thank all of my readers in advance for their patience and understanding. _

_In the meantime, how do you like the story so far . . . ?_


	21. Falling Dominos

**Chapter 21: Falling Dominos**

In the main conference room at FBS Headquarters, Director Vincent DeMarigny emerged from the pensieve after viewing Owen Flynn's memory of his father's capture by Regina Mills. Agent Hadji Quest-Singh then handed him a photograph and a drawing, and said, "We just got this photo a few minutes ago by telefax. It was taken by an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. in rural Maine just outside of the Incursion area. That large rock by the side of the road matches the one our draughtsman drew based on what he saw in Owen Flynn's memory."

But Director DeMarigny had other things on his mind. "_Happy_ . . . . There's that word again, Agent Quest-Singh; "_Happy_." Regina Mills said, "I just wanted us to be . . . _happy_ . . . ."

Director DeMarigny handed the photo and the drawing back to Hadji, and then went over to his place at the conference room table, where he picked up a folder containing a single piece of parchment. Less than a month ago, this parchment had been enchanted to detect anomalous magic that leaked through from the Enchanted Realms into our world, and provide information on it to Aurors assigned to MADS Network stations. Now, it was just a piece of parchment; the enchantments that made it a valuable piece of FBS "hardware" burned out of it by the tremendous power from the Incursion that overwhelmed the sensitive magic it once held.

Still standing, Director DeMarigny read aloud the fourteen words now indelibly seared into the parchment in his hands (and onto _every_ piece of similarly enchanted parchment within two hundred miles of the Incursion's epicenter,) that said: "Somewhere horrible! Absolutely horrible! A place where the only _happy_ ending... will be mine!" Anyone . . . ?"

Director DeMarigny sat at his place and then silently canvassed the three other Aurors and single muggle sitting around the table as he and his secretary, Mrs. Marilyn Matheson, patiently sitting at her steno machine, awaited a reply.

Agent Quest-Singh took his seat next to his brother, and said, "If the person who cast the spell was Regina Mills, and she did it in the pursuit of "happiness," then why go "somewhere horrible" to find it?"

Dr. Johnathan Quest said, "Listen, before I can say anything useful, I need to know more about the Enchanted Realms themselves. I understand that they are in another dimension – or rather, _dimensions_ – in a parallel universe. But Hadji told me that that is an imprecise definition because there is more to the explanation that most people find hard to accept. So, can anyone tell me anything more, or is my FBS Security Clearance not high enough?"

"Oh, your Security Clearance Level is more than high enough, Dr. Quest," said Director DeMarigny. "But the precise nature of the Enchanted Realms is a little difficult to explain. You won't have any problem with _understanding_ what I have to say to you. The problem you will have will be with _believing_ what I tell you, much less accepting the _implications_ of what I have to say."

"Director, I may not understand magic," said Dr. Quest. "But I accept that it exists. And I understand the "Many Worlds Theory of the Multiverse" as well as any scientist may claim to. I think that I can get my mind around whatever it is you have to tell me about the Enchanted Realms, no matter how difficult it might be. Besides, I'll need to know as much as possible if I am to offer any help."

Director DeMarigny shook his head. "Dr. Quest, it's not that what I have to tell you is difficult for you or anyone else to understand. It's just that what I can tell you will seem . . . outright unbelievable. Maybe even a bit disturbing. The main roadblock to understanding the nature of the Enchanted Realms is not ignorance. Rather, it is simple incredulity."

Around the conference table, Hadji and the Addams Siblings watched Dr. Quest with baited breath as he shrugged and said, "Try me, Director."

Director DeMarigny thought for a moment, and then said, "Maybe it would be better if your brother filled you in on the, uh, "details" that you will have a problem accepting. Agent Quest-Singh . . . ?"

Hadji nodded and said, "You know, Director, my brother and I have not had breakfast, yet. If you wouldn't mind calling a recess, I could take John to the cafeteria and fill him in while we eat." Hadji checked his watch. "And if we go now, we'll miss the rush for a table."

Director DeMarigny nodded, and asked everyone to be back in the Conference Room in an hour. "Besides, I want a quick word with Agents Spellman and Graymalkin before they go to pick up Owen Flynn and the Jordan and Lovegood families. I told them to come here before they went down to the cafeteria for breakfast, themselves." Both Quest brothers nodded, and left for the cafeteria.

Dr. Johnathan Quest had eaten at the FBS cafeteria before with his brother many times for lunch and even the odd dinner or two, but this was the first time that he had breakfast there, and John had to admit that they served a good one. Unlike muggle cafeterias, you did not need to stand in a line for your food. You just chose an available table, wrote what you wanted on a magic chalkboard, and seconds later – minutes at most – your order teleported to you straight from the kitchen, or even from kitchens miles away, if a specialty item was desired.

By the time the two brothers arrived, the cafeteria was starting to get crowded, and they got one of the few free tables remaining. Dr. Quest wrote eggs, hash browns and toast on his chalkboard, and they appeared almost immediately. Hadji's breakfast arrived minutes later. And for drinks, young wizards and witches in their late teens and early twenties went from table-to-table topping off cups of coffee, hot chocolate, milk, orange juice and whatever other beverage the diners requested.

John said to his brother, "Alright, Hadji. What exactly is it about the Enchanted Realms that I might have a problem accepting? I mean, I do understand the 'Many Worlds' concept, you know. I sat down here and ordered eggs and hash browns. But I almost ordered a big bowl of oatmeal. This means that, in a parallel universe, _another_ Dr. Quest and Agent Quest-Singh are having breakfast and my counterpart is eating that oatmeal. Or cream of wheat. Or bacon, cheese and eggs on an English muffin."

"Or, maybe we are not even having this discussion because I was killed by that electric creature on that island before you and dad could rescue me when we were ten and I couldn't restart my jetpack. In that universe, you never even found out about the hidden, Wizarding World."

John nodded. "You could have used a less gruesome example, Bro. But we are definitely on the same page, as it were."

"Maybe not," said Hadji, who had yet to touch his breakfast; a savory, vegetable stew served on a plate of cast iron. "I mean, John, you're easily able to accept a parallel world where, say, The South won the Civil War, or where the Roman Empire never fell.

"But how about worlds where fictional people are actually _real_ and real people are actually _fictional_."

Dr. Johnathan Quest just stared at his brother at a loss for words. After a few moments, Hadji said, "Yeah, I know that sounds a bit . . . strange. But is it really any stranger than a parallel world where the American Revolution never happened and I work for the Colonial Ministry of Magic in the UK instead of the Magical Congress of the United States of America?"

"That's . . . different . . . ," said John, but his voice betrayed doubt even as he said it.

Hadji shrugged. "Why's it "different," John? You and I both accept as a _fact_ the idea that this conversation is taking place in a near-infinite number of parallel universes between a near-infinite number of Dr. Johnathan Quests and Agent Hadji Quest-Singhs. You and I both accept the idea that these other universes are brought into existence whenever a choice is made, creating a point of divergence."

"Yes, Hadji, we do. But accepting the existence of a near-infinite number of "us" and everyone we know in a near-infinite number of parallel worlds is one thing. Accepting the existence of a parallel universe populated by fictional character like, say, _Donald Duck_ or _Bugs Bunny_ is another thing, altogether."

"Again, why is it different?" persisted Hadji.

"Because unlike us, Donald Duck and Bugs Bunny are make-believe cartoon characters," said John.

"In our universe, perhaps," said Hadji. "But in an alternate universe; us being fictional characters is a very real possibility. There are other universes where we do not exist except as fictional characters."

"Like Donald Duck and Bugs Bunny." It was a statement; not a question. "Well, as you once told me, "I'm from Missouri."

Hadji paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, and said, "It may be easier for you to accept if we use real people as examples.

"As boys, we _both_ thought that Merlin was fictional. But after I came back from my first year at Hogwarts and told you that I learned that Merlin was actually a real, historical person, you accepted that without any trouble. You also accepted the existence of King Arthur and Sir Lancelot; people who coexisted with Merlin in legend, when I told you that they, too, were real.

"And if Merlin and King Arthur were real in _our_ universe, it stands to reason that they are also real in _other_ universes as well – a near-infinite number of universes, as a matter of fact. But there are _also_ a near-infinite number of universes in which they are only _characters _in a story."

"Hadji, that's a pretty big leap of logic. I mean, real people are real and fictional people are fictional. By definition, fictional people do not exist in the real world – the real multiverse, for that matter."

"You are forgetting about Merlin, King Arthur and Lancelot," said Hadji.

"No, I'm not. Wizardkind has kept the history of Camelot alive. Even if muggles have forgotten that Camelot was real does not mean that it did not really exist. Now, I'll admit that most muggles do not know that Merlin and Arthur were real people and that Camelot was a real place. But that does not mean that the Quest for the Holy Grail did not happen. And if the Statute of Secrecy was ever repealed, then _every_ muggle will know that what we thought was only fiction was actually real, also.

"But the fact remains that Merlin, King Arthur and Sir Lancelot _were_ real people who have been relegated to the world of fiction."

"In our universe, yes," Hadji patiently agreed. "But in other universes, they never existed at all. And in many of these universes, they exist only in fiction."

"But how is that possible if they were never real to begin with in those universes?" said John. "I mean, in our universe, the reality segued into legend. But without the reality, the legend would never have arisen."

"Unless someone wrote of their adventures in those universes, thinking that they were, in fact, writing a fictitious story that they came up with," said Hadji. "Look, John, Quantum Theory and the Many Worlds Theory are enough to give most people a headache when they think about it too much. You told me that, yourself.

"Well, one day a few years ago, I was discussing these concepts with other Techno-Mages who were trying to reconcile the Quantum Theory of Muggle scientists with the Natural Lore of Wizardkind in an attempt to better understand the nature of what is known as the Enchanted Realms."

John nodded. "You told me that the Enchanted Realms are the fountainhead of all magic."

"Yes. And sometimes, the magic of the Enchanted Realms "leaks through" into our world; into all so-called "non-magical" worlds, for that matter. And I don't just mean magical creatures that come through where the barrier is thin and make mischief in our world. At least some of them come here to cause mischief. In most cases, though, what we here would call mischief is what they would call a desperate attempt to return home."

John nodded. He could see where his brother was going with this train of thought. But he could also see that the train could easily be derailed. "So, you are saying that creatures that come over from the Enchanted Realms, such as leprechauns, fairies, and so on – creatures that are fictional in our world – are real in the Enchanted Realms.

"But that still does not convince me that people in our world just "came up with," say, stories about trolls and ogres, out of whole cloth. It is obvious that past encounters by muggles with such creatures provided fodder for the fictional legends. But that in worlds that have _never_ encountered fairies and trolls, they could not have been simply "dreamt up" out of some storyteller's imagination.

"You're right," said Hadji. "They could _not_ be simply 'dreamt up' or 'created out of whole cloth' in worlds where they never existed or even visited physically. But as you say, the _idea_ of such creatures had to come from _somewhere_. And that somewhere is the Realms of Fiction which exist in other parts of the infinite multiverse. And the Enchanted Realms is such a place."

"Look, Hadji, I want to believe you. If necessary, I will take what you tell me on faith because you are my brother and I trust you and this is a serious situation. But if I can actually _understand_ what you are telling me, I can be of better help."

"Alright, listen . . . ." Hadji paused to think, and then an idea came unbidden into his mind that he should have thought of sooner. "Alright, remember that experiment that dad showed us with the lights and the slits that demonstrated that light is both a wave and is made up of individual particles?" John nodded, and Hadji continued. "Remember how he said that the experiment was also proof of the Many Worlds theory that we both accept? And that when we set up our experiment at home in our universe, that a near infinite number of Dr. Benton Quests and his boys were doing the same thing in their own universes? He also said that it was the _interaction_ of these many experiments that caused the light particles to land where they did when the light source in the experiment was set to release the light one photon at a time."

Again, John nodded. But this time, he also smiled. "You're saying that the experiments interacted with each other." Hadji also nodded and smiled. John continued, "And you are trying to tell me that what is true about particles of _light_ applies to particles of _thought_ as well."

"Yes!" said Hadji with a touch of relief. "Look, you remember that time when we were kids with our dad in Egypt and encountered the reanimated mummy of Anubis?"

John nodded. "You know, that used to give me nightmares, until you went to Hogwarts and wrote to me about the Ancient Egyptian Wizards and the curses they put on tombs to guard them."

"Sure, once we both understood the "mechanics" of what was going on; Anubis' reanimated mummy was no scarier than Dr. Zin's Robot Spy. Believe me; I started to sleep a lot easier after I understood that, too. And then I didn't lose any more sleep until just before I had to take my O.W.L.S. . . .

"Anyway, in some worlds where magic does _not_ exist, our dad's counterpart would _never_ have encountered Anubis' reanimated mummy. But the near-infinite number of his counterparts who _did_ in parallel universes that interacted with our own would have had an influence on his _thoughts_, causing him to "know" and possibly even write a story about a reanimated mummy that to him, was pure fiction."

"My ultimate point, John," said Hadji. "Is that the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms is populated by people who in our world we would believe are _fictitious._ But they are very, very real. And one of them in particular – Regina Mills – is a character that we both know about from Fairy Tales and Disney movies: The Evil Queen."

"Alright . . . ," said John. "I get it. As hard as it is for me to believe, we are dealing with a person who, up until now, was _fictional_ in our world. And she is an Evil Queen."

"No, John," said Hadji. "Not "an" Evil Queen. Regina Mills is _THE_ Evil Queen."

"Then shouldn't her name be "Grimhilde," or something, like in the Disney movie about "Snow White?"

"In some universes, she probably is known as "Grimhilde," said Hadji nodding. "But _names_ are ultimately a variable between the different universes; a choice that parents make when bestowing a name on their child. Remember when our dad once said that you were almost named "Jack?" But the Evil Queen we are dealing with here is named Regina Mills."

"And she is the one responsible for the Incursion," said John, a statement; not a question. Then, something else occurred to John. "Wait a minute, Hadji. If the Evil Queen is real, then I suppose Snow White and Prince Charming are real, too."

"And so is the Royal Huntsman," said Hadji nodding. "And so are the Seven Dwarves. In fact, they exist in a near infinite number of universes."

"And, I suppose, so is Donald Duck," said John raising an eyebrow. "And so is Bugs Bunny . . . ."

Hadji shook his head. "We can't afford to get sidetracked now on some of the weirder aspects of parallel universes populated by fictional characters. Maybe we can discuss the existence of cartoon characters and other fictional characters being real in other, parallel universes sometime later. But for now, we have the Incursion in Maine to worry about. And John, my superiors and I are very, very worried.

"John, according to our current understanding of the Enchanted Realms, people from these Realms of Fiction aren't just actual people; they are essentially the personification - the _Avatars_ \- of various _Archetypes_ that exist in storytelling. And as such, they are basically "hard-wired" to think and behave in certain set ways.

"In these Realms of Fiction, the "Heroes" never lose, and the "Villains" never win; and everyone in these worlds is "Meta" enough to _realize_ that. To them, this is as immutable as the Laws of Physics are to us. But we think that what has happened here is that this particular Avatar of the Evil Queen Archetype wants to write, or rather, _rewrite_, the rules so that she may achieve happiness for herself. And apparently, she thinks that she can achieve this happiness in a different venue: Our world."

"Alright, then how is that an immediate threat to us?" said John. "Why is everybody so worried? I mean, aside from the fact that she has come to our world uninvited - essentially invaded our world - from what you have just said, she isn't here to establish a colony, much less try and take-over."

"John, the Evil Queen is trying to act against her own nature by trying to craft her own happy ending. This makes her a _Rogue Archetype_. And Rogue Archetypes from a Realm of Fiction are _highly _unstable, personality-wise. They are capable of just about anything and they act before they think. And this one happens to be a very powerful witch whose own magic on a par with someone like Baron Mordo or Dr. Victor von Doom.

"Even the most powerful wizard that I have ever personally met, the Headmaster of my old school, Albus Dumbledore, would have a problem with someone like Regina Mills. And Headmaster Dumbledore clobbered the evil wizard Gellert Grindelwald back in '45; even though Grindelwald supposedly had the _Elder Wand_. But as you saw in the pensieve from Mr. Jordan's memory about an hour ago, Regina Mills does not even need a wand in a wizard's dual . . . ."

The two brothers finished their now cold breakfasts in silence. When they were done, John said, "Do you think that we should go back to the conference room now, or would you like to stay and get caught up?"

Hadji checked his watch. Director DeMarigny wanted everyone back in the conference room an hour after they took a recess for breakfast. Hadji said, "We still got twenty minutes before we have to be back, John. Last time we spoke, you said there is something you wanted to ask me about a coworker. Anyone in particular?"

"Well, Agent Wednesday Addams," said John. "I didn't see a ring on her finger. Do you know if she is currently . . . involved with anyone . . . ?"

"She's between boyfriends now, John," said Hadji. "But there is something that you should know about her, first."

"Don't tell me that she doesn't date muggle polymaths," said John half smiling.

"No, it isn't that, John," said Hadji. "You see, she and her brother Pugsley are the Products of True Love."

"Powerful magic, from what I understand about that," said John nodding. "I guess she must have a lot of suitors."

"Not really," said Hadji. "She and her brother date a lot, but nothing long enough to get serious."

"Ah, so she's _picky_."

"Not just that," said Hadji. "You see, when a person grows up as the Product of True Love, they observe the way their parents interact, and want at least the same for themselves from a spouse when they get married. But that means their standards for a potential spouse are ridiculously unrealistic.

"I've never met their parents, Gomez and Morticia Addams. But from what I hear about them, they're chronically joined at the hip like a couple of Eighth Graders in the throes of full-on puppy love. John, True Love is so rare that the chances of the Addams Siblings _also_ finding the True Love that their parents have are about as good as both getting hit by lightning on the same day at the same time just after they both win the Irish Sweepstakes. It's the major down-side with being the Products of True Love.

"Look, Bro, I just don't want you to get your hopes up. I mean, I will introduce you if that's what you want. And if you ask her, she probably will go out with you. But if she doesn't feel "IT" when she is with you – and she probably won't because she did not feel "IT" the first time you saw each other - she won't continue with the relationship. But, it's your call, John."

"Uh, let me think about it a little, first . . . ."

The two brothers spent a few more minutes getting caught up on what their father and Mr. Bannon were up to, and another few minutes speculating about worlds where they were fictitious characters like the "Hardy Boys" are, before leaving for the conference room with only five minutes to spare. But before they got up and left, two people waiting in line for a table - Agents Spellman and Graymalkin – couldn't wait any longer, and decided to get an Egg McMuffin at McDonalds once they got to University City, Missouri, to escort Owen Flynn and the Jordan and Lovegood families back to FBS Headquarters for Owen Flynn's pensieve session.

But as Agents Spellman and Graymalkin left FBS Headquarters, two nondescript people – a man and a woman - followed them out of the cafeteria to the nearby Floo Station. And as the two individuals followed the Aurors, the man whispered, "We are fortunate that those two fools decided not to have breakfast in the cafeteria. The 'disguises' we have on will be expiring in a few more minutes."

The woman nodded solemnly, and replied, "We almost missed our one opportunity. Fortune must be smiling upon us."

"Us, and upon all of Pureblood Wizardkind," said the man nodding even as he raised their eyebrows in concern. "But your face is starting to change back! We must move _now_ before we fully revert . . . !"

The Avanti's engine hummed as Aggie Jordan crossed over the Poplar Street Bridge from Illinois into Missouri on I-64. According to the map that Ren had made for her, she was less than 20 miles from their new home in University City, Missouri. Aggie had spent the night before in a small motel in Carlyle, Illinois, and had spoken to Ren on the phone only to find out that her husband's and children's past few days had been anything but uneventful. Ren told her about what happened to Jenny at school and how she met a boy named Owen Flynn who said that he and his father had been camping in the wilderness in Maine when the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms "landed" around them, and that Owen's father was still trapped inside – apparently being held prisoner by an evil witch.

_That_ made Aggie shake her head in wonder. And she thought that _her_ past couple of days had been pretty eventful, what with organizing the other muggle spouses and family members into two teams – one for sorting and loading the absolute necessities into their cars, and the other for setting up a block-wide garage sale to sell what couldn't be taken with them (and to bring in some much needed cash to help the evacuee families, who were mostly in the same boat moneywise that the Jordans were in.) But in any event, Aggie was alert and ready to return home. Their _new_ home, that is. And Aggie took it as a good sign that she was beginning to think of University City as her new home. With any luck, Ren and especially Jenny would start thinking this as well; Ricky being young enough to "roll with the changes," as the REO Speedwagon song went.

So Aggie got up extra early, showered, and after a quick breakfast at the local Denny's, she decided to drive nonstop the rest of the way to their new home in University City, Missouri. With any luck, Aggie would get home in time to join her family and the Lovegoods when the Aurors arrived to escort them and young Owen Flynn to FBS Headquarters. Aggie told Ren the night before that she would do everything possible to get home before the FBS Aurors arrived at 7:30 am so that she would be able to join them. A quick glance at her watch told Aggie that she was less than 45 minutes from their new home; a home that would feel more like their home as soon as she got there with everything from their old home that her husband's beloved Avanti could carry . . . .

At the Jordan's home in University City, things had also gotten started early. Everyone was pretty much wide awake by 5:30 am, knowing that FBS Agents Spellman and Graymalkin would be coming at 7:30 am to escort them all to Salem, Massachusetts for Owen's memory copy session. Though Owen and Corey seemed to have slept well (as did Luna and Ricky,) the adults all looked tired. Only Jenny, who finally managed to fall asleep about an hour ago, was still in her bed. Ren decided that he would wake his daughter up around a quarter to seven, to allow her to have as much sleep as she could get. He asked Corey and Owen to keep the noise down to a dull roar, if possible.

Even though the energetic Corey Martindale was like the proverbial bull in the china shop, he did his best to comply (Jenny was now officially his girlfriend, after all.) But Owen Flynn was as excited as if this was Christmas Morning, and was anxious to open his gifts. And Ren and the Lovegoods knew that rather than visions of sugarplums dancing in his head; Owen undoubtedly imagined himself giving his father a big, welcome back hug – a hug that the adults knew could be a long time coming, if it ever came at all.

Dori had made a simple breakfast of warm porridge, but except for Corey, nobody seemed to feel much like eating. The adults were as uncomfortable as Owen was hopeful. Even Ricky and Luna seemed to sense that something was amiss as Jenny's little brother toddled around the kitchen anxiously (but never straying more than ten paces from his father.) And for the first time since the two had met, Corey had actually won his first staring contest with the one year old witch.

A triumphant Corey said, "This is really good, Mrs. Lovegood. What do you call it?"

"It's apple, banana and sultana porridge, dear," said Dori distantly, who then turned to Owen, and said, "You really should try to eat something, Owen."

"Yes," added Xeno. "Skipping breakfast won't make the Aurors come here any sooner, Owen."

But Owen Flynn was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. "So, how soon do you think it will be before the FBS makes Regina give up my dad, Mr. Lovegood?"

"I don't know," said Xeno choosing his words carefully. "Soon, maybe . . . I guess. I suppose it depends on, ah, what they can find out from viewing your memories of your time in Storybrooke . . . ."

"Well, I hope that they hit Storybrooke and Regina hard!" said Owen. "Corey told me about Doctor Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme. Do you think that he will be the one to make her back down?"

"Well," said Dori neutrally. "I suppose that the, uh, Sorcerer Supreme could take an interest in this case. Though I wouldn't count on it, Owen; normally, the Sorcerer Supreme faces threats such as, uh, the Dread Dormammu, or other, more . . . universal threats . . . ."

"But Regina invaded our world from another realm," Owen pointed out. "That sounds pretty "universal" to me!"

"Owen," said Ren. "What Dori means is that the Sorcerer Supreme faces the threats that the FBS and the White Council alone cannot handle on their own. Why, just a few years ago, an Evil Wizard named, ah," Ren lowered his voice to barely above a whisper, "Lord Voldemort . . . ."

"Lord Voldemort?" said Owen. "Who's Lord Voldemort?" Owen felt the room chill noticeably. Jenny's dad swallowed hard and the Lovegoods looked like they were about to break into a cold sweat. "Uh, what did I say . . . ?"

Dori said, "Owen, when . . . the person you just mentioned – we always referred to him as, "You Know Who" - was alive, we didn't say his name out loud. He had his name tabooed, you see. That's a spell that would let him know if anyone spoke his name aloud, and where they were.

"Everyone was afraid of him. Everyone, that is, but the Sorcerer Supreme and a powerful witch named Endora. Dr. Strange did not directly become involved because he considered You Know Who to be just a . . . a "thug" and a "punk" who was not a threat worthy of his attention."

Ren said, "In Dr. Strange's opinion, You Know Who was someone that the _normal_ Wizarding authorities could handle, without his assistance. Basically, he pointed out that you wouldn't send a SWAT Team to go after kids stealing hubcaps and spraying graffiti. That sort of thing . . . ."

Owen said, "But Regina didn't steal our hubcaps! She took my dad prisoner! My dad is being held prisoner by an invader from another world! Isn't that the kind of thing that someone like Dr. Strange would take care of?"

To the relief of all the adults present, Corey said, "Relax, Owen. It doesn't matter who they send into Storybrooke to get your dad so long as they get him. Isn't that right, Mr. Jordan?" He then turned to Dori, looked at her wide-eyed, held up his empty bowl, and in an exaggerated trembling voice said, "Please, Mrs. Lovegood, may I have some more . . . ?"

Dori sighed as she waved her wand, making the ladle come out of the pot to put another serving in Corey's bowl. "Let me guess," said Dori managing a smile. "You just read "Oliver Twist," didn't you." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yeah, our teacher assigned it to us a few days ago," said Corey. "I also saw the film on TV. I had thought about saying it with a British accent; but I thought that might be offensive, so . . . ." Corey took another spoonful, and smiled broadly. "This really is good. You really should try some, Owen. I know that you will like it. Could you please give my mom the recipe, Mrs. Lovegood?"

At the suggestion of a peer, Owen began to eat. He took one bite and smiled. Then, he excused himself, ran into the living room, and came back seconds later with his camera. After taking a quick picture, he then finished off two helpings, himself.

When the boys were finished eating, they excused themselves and went into the living room to watch Saturday Morning Cartoons while they waited for the Aurors to arrive. Dori quietly followed them, making sure that they were distracted by whatever they were watching, and then returned to the kitchen, casting a disillusionment spell on the doorway.

"I can't believe that we just did what we did, Xeno," said Dori shaking her head as much in frustration as disbelief.

"I know," said Xeno. "In retrospect, I think that we should have just _lied_ to the poor boy outright, Dori. We should have just told him that the FBS would have rescued his father with everything they had at their disposal, instead of dancing around his questions _the very same way_ that the Aurors did with him and us. True, we did not lie to Owen, but we answered him as evasively and as vaguely as you please, allowing his hopes to infer the rest. We just did the _very thing_ to that boy that we dislike of the Wizarding Authorities who we interview for _The Quibbler_."

"Don't be too hard on yourselves," said Ren. "You did what you had to do to keep things from getting worse than they already are."

Xeno chuckled ironically. "The _very words_ that those in positions of authority tell themselves when they do the _very same thing_ we just did when those they serve demand answers . . . ."

"Instead of _exposing_ a cover-up," said Dori dryly. "We have _become a part_ of one."

"Yes," said Xeno. "And we won't even have to feel any guilt about it. After our session with the FBS Obliviators, by this time tomorrow, we won't even remember that it ever happened . . . ."

Jenny Jordan rolled over and looked at the clock on her nightstand. It was almost seven o'clock! The Aurors would be here soon! Why hadn't her father awakened her earlier? Was everyone still asleep? Bolting out of bed, Jenny changed into the clothes that she had set out for herself the night before in record time that would put a _boy_ to shame, and sped down the stairs, where she saw everyone else in the living room, watching cartoons.

Corey was the first to notice her, and said, "Good morning, Jenny! We just finished breakfast, but there is plenty more left. In fact, I could go for more, myself. May I join you?"

Though not particularly hungry, Jenny said, "Uh, yeah, sure. I'd like that, Corey. So, what's everybody watching?"

"This new cartoon that came out this season," said Owen. "It's called, "_Dungeons and Dragons_."

"I've heard of it," said Jenny neutrally. "It's about six kids; five muggles and a muggle born wizard, who are at an amusement park, and end up going through a portal into the Enchanted Realms."

"I wonder how much, if anything, the writers knew about the Wizarding World?" said Xeno trying to make light banter.

Ren said, "Hey, Xeno, check out those dress robes on the tall, pale warlock with no nose." Though only a cartoon, Ren could not help but admire the cloak with its enchanted wings that reacted to the wearer's emotions. And that cool looking one-horned headdress . . . . "What do you suppose an outfit like that would cost, Xeno?"

Xeno shrugged. "I don't know. Besides, it's not exactly either your or my style. Now, _Lucius Malfoy_, on the other hand . . . ." That brought some nervous chuckles from the adults.

Corey stood up smiling broadly, and said, "May I escort you to the kitchen, Jenny?"

Silently, Jenny took Corey's hand, and followed him into the kitchen. As the two children went through the kitchen door, they both felt something strange. "Disillusionment spell," said Jenny absentmindedly. "I thought that Agent Addams removed it when she left."

"Wait," said Corey. "Was Agent Wednesday Addams here last night? When was that?"

Jenny passed her hand through the door again to be sure that the spell was still there and that no one in the living room could hear them. "Oh, Corey . . . I . . . I . . . ." Then Jenny began to sob softly as she leaned into Corey for support.

"J-Jenny?" said Corey. "What's wrong? You can tell me _anything_. I'm officially your _boyfriend_, after all."

Jenny took a paper napkin from the table to wipe her eyes. She told Corey everything. She knew that she was not supposed to. But they would all soon have their memories modified, and for now, she needed someone to talk with now more than ever.

When Jenny finished, Corey said, "So it's a lot worse than we thought. I mean, I knew that it was bad when we saw that witch rip that guy's heart out in your dad's memory. But if this witch can level our world without us even able to fire a shot back at her . . . ."

"Corey, I'm scared. What if this is a full-on invasion? Even if we all come together – wizards, muggles, mutants, meta-humans, everybody – we can't stop something like that!"

Corey took Jenny's hand, and said, "Jenny, what Owen knows is our best chance of defeating these invaders. When our Aurors see what's inside of Owen's memories, they'll have a chance to plan a way to stop Regina, and maybe even get Owen's dad back."

"I know, but I just don't like the fact that we have to lie to Owen. He's my friend. We have to tell him!"

"He's my friend too, Jenny!" said Corey. "But you told me what Agents Addams and Quest-Singh said. We need Owen's cooperation. My mom once told me that a pensieve doesn't work well if the person whose memories are being recorded isn't cooperative. And if we tell Owen the truth, the Aurors won't be able to get a good look at his memories. And then we'd have no chance of getting Owen's dad back, much less defeating Regina. Besides, we're all going to get our memories changed when this is over. And things can get back to normal. Well, what passes for normal now that the Incursion is here."

Before Jenny could reply, her father came into the kitchen saying, "Didn't you kids here me calling you?" Then he paused, and said, "Oh, I guess not . . . ." Ren brushed back his hair, and said, "There. I guess Dori forgot to remove the disillusionment charm she put on the door, earlier . . . . Anyway, it's time to get ready to go, kids. Agents Spellman and Graymalkin just got here, and Owen is anxious to leave, so we gotta get a move on!"

Jenny and Corey followed Ren into the living room, where the others had been joined by Agents Spellman and Graymalkin. Owen was grinning from ear to ear. But Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood looked concerned. Xeno said, "Ren, Agents Spellman and Graymalkin say there has been a change of plans."

Dori added, "They say they want us to wait here while they take Owen to Salem."

"Oh?" said Ren. "But, you said that we could come with Owen."

"That won't be necessary," said Agent Spellman. "Owen is a big boy, and he doesn't need you there to hold his hand."

"It's alright, Mr. Jordan," said Owen. "Besides, I won't _need_ to come back _here_! After they scan my memories, Agent Graymalkin said that they would be getting my dad back, and once they do, I can go with him back to New Jersey, tonight!"

Xeno took out his wand. Dori did the same, waving hers while muttering an incantation.

"Why did you cast an anti-apparation charm just now?" said Agent Graymalkin sharply. "Remove it, immediately in the name of the United States Federal Bureau of Sorcery and the Magical Congress of the United States of America!"

"No." said Dori firmly. "Not until you repeat for Mr. Jordan what you just told Owen."

"That will not be necessary!" said Agent Spellman. "All he needs to know is that we are taking Owen with us to have his memories reviewed and that we shall then reunite him with his father. Now, we thank you all for making us aware of Owen's time within the Arrival, but we are somewhat pressed for time and need to leave for Salem without any further delay!"

"What are you guys doing?" said Owen. "They're going to take me to get my dad back from Regina!"

Now Ren had his wand out and pointed it at the two purported FBS Agents. "Owen, listen to me. I don't think that these people are who they say they are!"

"How dare you!" said Agent Spellman.

"You'll get the Dementor's Kiss for this, Jordan!" added Agent Graymalkin.

"Daddy . . . ?" said Jenny.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," said Corey.

"Why are you doing this, Mr. Jordan?" said Owen. "We just met them last night!"

Xeno said, "So, whoever you two _really_ are; are you using a glamour or polyjuice potion to masquerade as the two FBS Agents we met yesterday?"

I'm guessing the latter, Luv," said Dori. "A glamour will not modify the voice of the person being imitated. And they do seem rather pressed for time, wouldn't you say, Xeno?"

"What's happening?!" said Owen in near panic.

'Agent Spellman' moved swiftly, and before anyone could react, she grabbed Corey Martindale from behind, holding him firmly against her with her arm tightly about his neck. The boy struggled; pulling at her arm with both hands, but could not break free, only stopping his squirming when she held the tip of her wand to his head.

"Drop your wands," commanded 'Agent Spellman.' "All of you! Or I say _two words_ and the muggle boy dies!" She then looked down at Corey, relishing the fear in his wide eyes. "I trust that as the "son of a witch," you know the two words to which I am referring?"

Reluctantly, Ren, Xeno and Dori complied.

Dori said, "The very same last two words that _you_ shall ever hear when you are apprehended by _real_ FBS Aurors for _murdering_ an eleven year old boy with magic! Sadly or not, the death penalty is still very much in vogue here in the States."

"Let me assure you that _that_ will never happen, Mrs. Lovegood," said 'Agent Spellman.' "And even if it does, there is no magic that can bring this muggle boy back from the dead! And if I must needs fall, it shall be I the service of the greater good!"

"A-are you with those Night Brother guys?" said Owen near panic.

"No, Owen," said Ren as he casually moved his hand to brush his hair. "Something like this isn't exactly their style. You see, Owen –"

Before Ren could finish his sentence, 'Agent Graymalkin' said "Stupify!" and blasted Ren with his wand, sending Ren flying back against the wall before he slumped to the floor, dazed.

"DADDY!" said Jenny as she ran to her father's side. Ricky joined her, and began crying as he grabbed his father's leg.

"Do you take us for _fools_, Mr. Jordan? _We know_ that brushing your hair back is your _wandless-gesture_!"

When Jenny saw that her father wasn't seriously injured, she turned to the two 'FBS Agents,' and said, "I know who you two _really_ are! You're those stuck-up _Malfoys_ that we met at the hotel after we left Collinsport!"

"My, my," said 'Agent Spellman.' "But aren't you a clever, little witch, Jennifer Jordan."

"You have _no idea_ what you are doing, Malfoy," said Ren as Jenny helped him to his feet as best as she could. Once standing, he picked up his son to soothe the frightened boy. "The witch from the Enchanted Realms responsible for the Incursion – not the "Arrival" - is a dangerous person who has a _curse_ with the power to destroy our world! And I mean _everyone_ in our world! Wizards and witches included; she doesn't care about us or anyone else, here!"

But all 'Agent Graymalkin' said in reply was, "If you move your hand to your head one more time Mr. Jordan, then you shall find yourself under a full-body petrification curse!

"And now, let's all just calm down . . . ."

Owen Flynn watched in horror as the faces of 'Agents Spellman and Graymalkin' began to, for lack of a better word, "waver" and transform.

And several miles away, Aggie Jordan had just pulled off of I-64 onto South Hanley Road. By her reckoning, she would be at their new home in University City in another few minutes. Just in time to go with her family and Jenny's new friend to Salem.


	22. It Can't Happen Here

**Chapter 22: It Can't Happen Here **

As a boy growing up, Ren Jordan had heard lots of stories about the many threats faced by Wizardkind. There were groups like the New Salem Philanthropic Society, also known to the American Wizarding Community as the "_Second Salemers," _whose ultimate goal was to expose and eradicate all magic users, not just in America, but wherever they could be found. There were also the growing number of Anti-Mutant Organizations that would probably not make too much of a distinction between someone whose "abilities" came from an "X-Gene" and those whose powers came from ordinary "magic."

Even more scary, t_here was also rumors of a newly emerged group known by the innocuous title of "The Home Office," who were similar to, though maybe a bit more militant than the SS - were that even possible. And if that was not bad enough, the Home Office was believed to know about the secret of squid-ink and its magical-dampening properties. _

_Ren's grandmother had told him many bedtime stories about how just a __single drop__ of squid-ink could prevent a wizard or witch from doing magic until it wore off. And while such stories terrified him as a little boy, he later dismissed them as "bogeyman" stories intended to encourage young wizards and witches to behave (that is, to keep their magic under control,) whenever they were in public._

_But as Ren got older, other more sundry concerns displaced such abstract threats of being assaulted by Second Salemers or Home Officers with squid-ink loaded water pistols. _

_There were school tests, term papers and final exams to get through. Getting and holding onto his place on the Collinsport High Vampires Varsity Basketball Team cost him more than one night's sleep in his teenage years. Going to the interview to get hired on part-time at the local lumber yard to earn extra spending money made him just as nervous._

_Then there was getting a Driver's License (and a decent, reasonably –classic car to go with it.) Then there was trying to work up the courage to ask out a pretty-faced muggle girl named Agatha Price (who could __really__ fill-out a bikini!) And then, after he and Aggie began dating steadily, worrying about just how Aggie and her family would react when he told them that he was a wizard before proposing marriage . . . ._

_Later on, these concerns were replaced in turn by other, more mundane (though no less worrisome,) concerns, such as mortgage payments, layoff threats, Income Tax forms, and sitting up with Jenny when she was sick at 2:00 am; something that Ricky was now putting them through, as well. And, of course, helping Jenny with her homework that seemed more difficult than he remembered when he was a fifth grader._

_For the most part, the only magic-related concerns that Ren had in the immediate future would be helping Jenny and Ricky find wands that liked them, (without having to travel all over the world to find them,) before getting their kids into a good school of magic. _

_Ren knew several people who went to Randolph Carter in the Miskatonic Valley, and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland. But Randolph Carter was just a stone's throw away from the Incursion Site in Maine, making Hogwarts look more and more attractive as of late (despite the fact that as Half-Bloods, his children could conceivably have trouble with some of the other students, there.) There was also the added concern of how he and Aggie could afford a Hogwarts education for their children on his salary; especially since he could not work on brooms where they now lived to earn extra money. And the Scholarship Application / Student Aid forms from Hogwarts had yet to arrive._

_Of course, there were always the annoying Wizarding Supremacist recruiters, who came out of the woodwork every now and then. But until recently, this was easily taken care of by throwing their recruiting literature that came almost daily by Owl Post into the fireplace and casting an incendio charm. Sure, what with the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms, these organizations were becoming more and more persistent; a fact hammered home by the recent attempt of the Sanderson boy to try to intimidate him and Healer Rachel Martindale through Jenny and Corey. If the Dresden boy had not came at the right moment on an errand for Healer Martindale . . . ._

_But up until now, Ren had never thought about what would happen if he ever ran into some actual __Pureblood__ Wizarding Supremacists like those in the UK and Europe. And the truth-be-told, he never thought that he ever __had__ to worry about anything like that. Not in America, where there were no Pureblood Supremacy movements, much less enough "Purebloods" around to start one. Not in a country that had the highest rate of intermarriage between wizards, witches and muggles. And certainly not in the 20__th__ Century! _

_Yes, the recent events in the UK and Europe, where a certain Lord Vol -, ah, "You Know Who," (No __body__ was ever found, so why take any unnecessary chances?) had tried to bring about a Pureblood Supremacist agenda, had been a cause for concern that made most American wizards and witches sit up and take notice. It was a no-brainer that if YKW managed to succeed in taking over the UK and European Magical Communities, that he would then turn his attention to the magical community in America. _

_But Ren kept telling himself that YKW would be a fool to try that! If some kid wizard Ricky's age could tear YKW a new one without even trying, then it followed that going up against someone like Aurors Addams and Quest-Singh (to say nothing of Dr. Strange!) would be a Very Bad Idea for YKW. _

_But now, Ren Jordan and his family actually found themselves being threatened by genuine, European Pureblood Fanatics. And at the moment there were no FBS Aurors or Whitelighters here (much less the Sorcerer Supreme,) to protect them from these Dark Wizards who had years of training at Hogwarts under their belts. The Malfoys probably even had experience with magical dueling that Ren could not hope to match, even with Xeno and Dori here. And Ren doubted very much that Lucius Malfoy would agree to a one-on-one game of muggle basketball, (or even a broom race where Ren would actually stand a decent chance of winning.)_

_But years of playing Varsity Basketball in High School __did__ confer one advantage on Ren that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy did not have: The well-honed ability to quickly size-up a tight, ever changing situation, and react to it. Ren's mind raced. Lucius had the drop on him and the Lovegoods. Narcissa held Corey Martindale firmly, with her wand pointed at the frightened boy's head. And Ren could also see some fear in the Malfoys as they tried to figure out their next move. Clearly, their simple plan to come into the Jordan's home in polyjuice potion disguise as Aurors Graymalkin and Spellman, and take Owen Flynn with them without any resistance, had gone terribly wrong._

_As in a game of basketball, the clock was ticking. Ren knew that the longer the Malfoys could be kept from taking Owen and leaving, the greater the chance that the FBS would realize that something was wrong, and send someone else to investigate the delay. But even if the Malfoys did not know that, Ren could tell that their impatience was growing. _

_Unbidden, Ren's mind went back to the Displaced Wizards' Center, and something that seemed like it happened a lifetime ago stood out. He remembered that Lucius Malfoy fancied himself something of an orator for his cause. And if Ren could get Lucius talking . . . ._

_Lucius said threateningly, "I'll not ask you again, Jordan! Give Owen Flynn to us!"_

_Ren said, "Listen, Malfoy –"_

_"__That's __Mister Malfoy__, to you, Jordan!" snapped Lucius. "I would advise you to use more respect when dealing with your betters; especially when you find yourself at their mercy!"_

_"__Alright, __Mister__ Malfoy," said Ren evenly. "What I am trying to tell you is that you have no idea what you are dealing with regarding the Incursion and those responsible for it being here." Ren glanced down at Owen and managed a reassuring smile. He then returned his attention to Lucius, and added, "The only thing that you will learn from reviewing Owen's memories of his time in Storybrooke – that is what the Incursion is called by its creators – is that it looks like a typical, American Eastern Seaboard __muggle__ village. Our Aurors hope to learn from Owen's memories what the internal layout of the Incursion is like. That won't be of much help to you. But I can tell you something that you might just find interesting._

_"__A few days ago, Xeno – Mr. Lovegood – and I were privy to another person's memories of the Enchanted Realms." Ren jerked his head back to the pensieve behind him. "I __can __show you what I saw, if you would like. But I am not foolish enough to think that you would want to take your attention off of us to have a look in a pensieve. So I will tell you what I saw."_

_When Lucius Malfoy raised an eyebrow in interest, Ren continued. He told the Malfoys about the witch from the Enchanted Realms named Regina Mills, and the curse that she used to bring over an entire village, superposing it on a section of forest in Coastal Maine. And what would happen the next time she cast the curse, but left out the part that superposes what comes over with what is already there. _

_Ren spoke slowly and carefully. He did not expect what he said to have any effect on the Malfoys' attitude, much less their plans to take Owen with them. The important thing was to delay the Malfoys as long as possible in the hope that the FBS would send someone over to investigate "Agent Spellman's" and "Agent Graymalkin's" delay. _

_At least Agents Spellman and Graymalkin are still alive, __thought Ren, who knew that polyjuice potion will not work if the person you costume yourself as was dead. _

_When Ren was finished, Xeno added, "And that is not all, Lucius. Regina Mills has the ability to actually rip-out a person's heart and kill them; a spell widely believed to be fictional, or at best, lost in antiquity. And she can do it without a wand, gesture or incantation."_

_"__Interesting . . . ," drawled Lucius._

_Dori said, "But if you think that Regina has come here as the Wizarding World's "Liberator," then you could not be more wrong."_

_"__Your point?" said Narcissa impatiently as she tightened her arm around Corey's neck._

_"__I would think," said Dori evenly, "that my point would be obvious to those such as you and your husband, who subscribe to the Wizarding Identity Thesis, Narcissa._

_"__As you are well aware, the Wizarding Identity Thesis posits that the Enchanted Realms are the fountainhead of all magic in our world. Moreover, the people who come from the Enchanted Realms are __all__ capable of performing magic, assuming that they are properly trained and motivated._

_"__In the Enchanted Realms, learning how to perform magic is something that, like learning how to play a musical instrument, is possible for __anyone__. However, as with music, some are more inclined to being able to learn and perform magic there than others are._

_"__To use my analogy of learning how to play a musical instrument, like say, a flute, a person must needs have hands to cover and uncover the holes and a mouth to blow air through it to make music. But not everyone who possesses hands and a mouth has the necessary aptitude for learning how to play such an instrument, even though they are physically capable of doing so –"_

_"__I said, __what__ is your point . . . ?" said Narcissa severely._

_"__Ah, well, as I said, that should be most obvious to anyone who accepts the Wizards Identity Thesis as a matter of fact . . . ."_

_Though nervous, Ren had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. Dori - and undoubtedly Xeno, as well - knew what Ren was trying to do, and were also doing their part to delay the Malfoy's departure. Ren had to hand it to Dori. Like a high school student assigned a term paper that had to be at least ten pages long but could not find enough actual references, Dori was being overly wordy, "padding" her reply to keep the discussion going as long as possible. _

_Ren stole a glance at the clock. It was now about 7:25 am. The Aurors were supposed to come over at 7:30 am, so everyone would be expected in Salem shortly after. Ren guessed that there may be at least a 10 – 15 minute "grace period" before the FBS got worried. First, they would undoubtedly try to contact Agents Spellman and Graymalkin by mirror, and would then send someone over to investigate when they did not get an immediate reply. Ren and the Lovegoods had to keep the Malfoys distracted for just a little longer . . . ._

_Dori continued, "So you see, Narcissa, since __everyone__ in the Enchanted Realms has the potential ability to be a wizard or a witch - provided they obtained the proper training – that the concept of "Pure Blood," "Half-Blood," "Muggle-Born," "Squib," and even "__Muggle__," would have no __meaning__ to them, as it does to you and your fellow believers." _

_"__They would have no use for us, Lucius," said Xeno. "Not as fellow mages to be "liberated;" much less as equals or even as potential collaborators if they do want to take over this world._

_"__No, they would just come in and take what they want, or rather, replace the old with the new. And we would be powerless to stop them."_

_"__And that," said Ren. "Is why you can't take Owen with you. He is the only person in our world – wizard or muggle - who has actually been inside the incursion and seen it with his own eyes. Our Aurors need to review his memories to help us come up with a way to protect us all from the invaders!_

_"__Lu – __Mister __Malfoy, our Aurors are pretty certain that Regina Mills does not know that we – native magic users - are here. When the Incursion came through, it set off every alarm in our world, but the muggles didn't notice anything. This means that Regina knew she had to hide from muggles, but did not know that she had to hide from other magic users, as well._

_"__But if you or anyone else attempts to make contact with her, then she will know that we exist. And if this is a hostile invasion, she will strike hard and fast and we would be powerless against her! And by "we," I mean everyone in this world. Wizards, muggles, mutants - __everyone__!"_

_"__How does this sound, Lucius?" said Xeno reasonably. "You leave now, without taking Owen. Let us know where the two American Aurors are who you have impersonated. In return, we will not tell the American FBS that you were here, and Dori and I will not publish anything implicating you in __The Quibbler__."_

_"__Please, Narcissa," said Dori. "__Nobody __has been seriously hurt, yet. Please leave us in peace. Return to England. In exchange, we won't report you to the FBS or the MoM! And then, please let the American FBS and the White Council handle Storybrooke and Regina!"_

_For a long several seconds, nobody said anything. Then, Lucius Malfoy smiled thinly and said, "Did I not tell you, Jordan, __what__ I wanted __and__ that I would not ask, yet again?" And then to Narcissa, he added, "Use the Cruciatus Curse on the Blood Traitor Witch's "son."_

_Grimly, but without hesitation, Narcissa threw Corey to the floor and pointed her wand. Corey braced himself for what was coming. But before she could cast the curse, there was a knock at the door. Ren recognized the knock. It was Aggie._

_"__Hello!" came Aggie's muffled voice from outside. "Hey, is everyone still here? I hope so, because my hands are full! Can someone open the door for me?"_

_Pointing her wand away from Corey, Narcissa directed it at the door, and said, "Alohomora!" The door flew open and Aggie Jordan came inside carrying a large cardboard box._

_"__Hey, Ren!" said Aggie. "I'm glad I got here before you and everyone else left for Salem!"_

_But it was not her husband who replied. Instead, Narcissa Malfoy said, "_Get inside and set that box down, you filthy muggle cow!"

"N-Narcissa _Malfoy_ . . . ?" said Aggie surprised, who turned to her husband, and said, "Ren, what's going on, here?"

"We've, ah, we've got a _situation_, here, Aggie," said Ren nervously. "Please just do as she says!"

"Yes," said Narcissa dryly. "Do as I say! Set the bloody box down, and don't move! That should be simple enough instruction even for a stupid muggle to understand!"

Aggie looked over at Ren who nodded that she should obey, and slowly moved to set the box she was carrying down on the couch, wary of the wand that Narcissa Malfoy had pointed at her.

While Narcissa's wand was pointed at her mother, Jenny quickly went over to Corey, protectively putting her arms around him. The Malfoys had no qualms about harming the eleven-year- old muggle boy. But as obsessed as they were about Wizarding Lineages, they might think twice about harming a ten-year-old witch of the Peverell line.

Quickly, Aggie checked out her surroundings. Ricky was over with Ren, holding tightly onto his leg as Ren stood with his arm around a somewhat chubby boy that Aggie knew had to be Owen Flynn. The Lovegoods were standing there, too; their wands at their feet where they must have let them fall at the order of the Malfoys. The Lovegood's daughter, Luna, was sitting up on the couch, watching everything unfold with a detached interest.

As Aggie set the box down, her eyes met Narcissa's. And while Aggie's was a look of concern for her family, Narcissa's was a look of contempt and hate.

The two women were quite the study in contrasts. The blonde Narcissa was dressed in the same outfit that FBS Agent Susan Spellman had worn the night before, giving her something of an "Annie Hall" look. The dark-haired Aggie, dressed in old jeans and a sweatshirt that only somewhat toned-down her voluptuous curves, appeared to Narcissa as slatternly. Worse, she was a _muggle_ slattern who had managed to seduce a wizard from the noble Peverell line; no doubt with her whorish antics in the bedroom.

Even worse as far as Narcissa was concerned, Lucius had his eyes on her, too. "I have her covered, Lucius," said Narcissa curtly. "You keep your eyes on the Lovegoods and the Colonial Wizard. They're a far greater threat than this little muggle slut!"

"Take that back!" said Jenny, who was still kneeling on the floor, hugging Corey protectively. "You'd _better_ take back what you just called my mom, lady!"

But to Ren's and Aggie's and the Lovegoods' relief, Narcissa ignored the ten-year-old witch, and said to Aggie, "You must be really proud of yourself, having landed a wizard for a husband. But you are nothing more than a common Lady of Negotiable Affection, as far as I am concerned."

"Probably all that she is good for," opined Lucius in little more than a mutter. "That is the only reason why you married this muggle whore, isn't it, Jordan? Or where you just unable to find a _witch_ who would have a low, magically-uneducated tradesman for a spouse . . . ?"

Ren was about to say something, but Aggie spoke first. "To tell the truth, I really don't care what you think of us. But I do care about my children, our friends, and my husband. I'll do what is necessary to keep them safe. But let's get one thing straight - what my husband and I do when we are . . . being intimate is _none_ of your business. Though unlike you, I couldn't say how many cracks are in our bedroom ceiling when Ren and I are affectionate."

"How dare you . . . ?" said Narcissa, tightening her grip on her wand.

How Aggie wished for a gun at that moment. Ren told her that most muggles with a firearm could get off a shot or two before a wizard or witch could get off a curse. But although Aggie did not have an actual firearm, she saw something in the box that could be almost as good as one. It would be a last-ditch act of desperation. But it was something. And something was better than nothing. In the back of Aggie's mind, an idea started to take shape.

After setting the box down carefully on the couch, Aggie stole a glance at Ren. A quick eye contact was all they needed. The Malfoys had the drop on them, and were going to take Jenny's friend with them and the Jordans and the Lovegoods would be powerless to stop them. That they were going to take Owen Flynn was a given. But what would the Malfoys do with the rest of them?

The Malfoys' original plan had obviously been to masquerade as FBS Aurors, take Owen with them, and that would have been that. But they had not counted on being delayed long enough for their polyjuice potion disguise to wear off, throwing a monkey-wrench into their plan. Worse, they now found themselves being outnumbered by three other magic users and an adult muggle woman. And with the added distraction of Jenny, Corey and even Ricky and little Luna; Aggie could see that they were getting more and more nervous.

Ricky was sobbing as he held onto his father's leg with one hand as he sucked his thumb with the other. Owen Flynn was on the verge of crying as Ren held him firmly with his arm around him. So far, his plan to protect Owen by counting on the Malfoys' reluctance to harm a fellow wizard seemed to be working. And Jenny hugging Corey tightly was keeping him safe, for the moment. But now that Aggie was also here . . . .

"Give the boy to us, Jordan," hissed Lucius. "I have no desire to harm anyone who has the blood of the Peverell family flowing through them, even though they may be pathetically lost sheep, such as yourself." He then glanced over at Jenny, who held Corey protectively against her. "And I have even less desire to harm a little witch of Peverell descent, even though she does have a muggle mother." Lucius looked over at Jenny's mom smiled.

Narcissa Malfoy nodded, and added, "But we have _absolutely_ no qualms about doing whatever we shall to this filthy muggle slattern.

"You know, Lucius, it might be somewhat amusing to turn Jordan's impudent muggle dollymop into a little bunny rabbit . . . ."

"Quite, Narcissa," said Lucius smiling thinly. "That should teach that upstart colonial husband of hers how to respect his betters."

But just as Narcissa began to brandish her wand, Jenny screamed "NO!" and the wand flew out of the adult witch's hand by Jenny's involuntary reflexive magic, catching everyone by surprise. Frantically, Narcissa looked around for her wand, but it was nowhere to be seen.

That was the opening that Aggie needed, and in one smooth motion, she grabbed an object from the box on the couch and pointed it threateningly at Lucius. "Drop your wand, or I'll blast you into radioactive atoms!"

Lucius gasped in spite of himself. The device in Aggie Jordan's hand was all white coloured and about eighteen inches long with a slender handle and a thumb-operated trigger. The main body was fat near the handle, tapering into a smaller end with a thin, rectangular opening pointed directly at Lucius. On the side of the device, the words "Black and Decker" could be read; no doubt the name of a muggle weapons manufacturer. Then, to Lucius' added horror, the device began to make a whirring sound and a small cover blocking the rectangular opening retracted inwardly.

"My _atomic plasma nebulizer_ is building to _discharge_, Malfoy!" said Aggie. "I can _disintegrate_ you before you can say "Avada Kedavra! Now, hands up, both of you! Ren! Get his wand!"

Ren quickly brushed back his hair and Lucius' wand slipped from his grasp and flew to him. Ren caught it easily. Then Dori said, "Accio," and Narcissa's wand - which was floating just above her head - came to her. Immediately, Ren and the Lovegoods performed the same spell to retrieve their own wands, pointing them at the Malfoys the moment they got them.

"Way to go, Mr. and Mrs. Jordan!" said Corey.

Then Ren said, "Jenny, take Corey and Owen and run for help! Call the FBS!"

"But what about Ricky and Luna?" said Jenny.

"I said _RUN_!" snapped Ren. And without another word, Jenny Jordan grabbed Corey's and Owen's hands and the three kids were sprinting out the open door

None of the children had their coats on, and Jenny and Corey were still in stocking feet. It was cold outside; the man on the TV said that it was in the mid 30's. But it was nothing that three East Coast kids couldn't handle.

"That was totally awesome, Jenny!" said Corey. "The way you made Mrs. Malfoy's wand fly out of her hand and float just above her head where she couldn't see it!"

Jenny responded by saying "C'mon, you guys! We gotta get to a phone!" Then Jenny began running to where she remembered seeing some stores, with Corey and Owen right behind her.

Inside the Jordan's house, Lucius and Narcissa were ordered to their knees and were then bound by an incarcerous spell as Ren, Xeno, and Dori held them at wandpoint. Aggie held Ricky as she kept the muggle weapon pointed at the Malfoys, in spite of the magically conjured ropes binding them as good as any set of handcuffs could do. Once the Malfoys were secured, Aggie then went over to the telephone in the kitchen. She came back a few seconds later, and said, "I'm not getting a dial tone. These two must have cut the line."

"Don't worry, dear," said Ren. "Jenny and her friends will get to a telephone soon enough."

"I don't know what you are talking about!" snarled Narcissa. "We haven't done anything to your telephone; whatever that may be. Now, would you be so kind as to turn off your muggle weapon, Mrs. Jordan? I wouldn't want you to disintegrate us by accident!"

"Too right!" said Lucius with just a trace of fretfulness.

"I have no desire to die by a muggle nuclear weapon, Mrs. Jordan!" added Narcissa.

"Oh," said Aggie conversationally. "So it's "Mrs. Jordan," now, and not "filthy muggle . . . ," what was that word that Narcissa called me, Dori?"

"Dollymop," Aggie," said Dori evenly. "Narcissa called you an "impudent muggle dollymop," right before she threatened to transfigure you into a little bunny rabbit."

"Yeah," said Aggie. "So . . . what does "dollymop" actually mean, Dori . . . ?"

"Narcissa called you a prostitute, Aggie," said Dori. "It is something of an old-fashioned term from the past century; just what I would expect from a family as provincial as the Malfoys."

"I see . . . ," said Aggie neutrally, as she regarded the bound Narcissa with a poker-face; though Narcissa returned Aggie's look with one of fear seasoned with hate. "So . . . . If the two of you are here, then where is your son, Draco?"

"How dare you speak his name!" said Narcissa. "And what business is it of yours where our son is? Know that he is safe and sound! So any plans that you might have of taking him from us shall never come to pass!"

"Taking him from you . . . ?" Aggie shook her head and let out a weary sigh. "I'm just concerned that if you left your son with a sitter that they should be alerted that Magical Children's Services will be coming to pick him up instead of the two of you. That way Draco may be sent to his closest relatives in England as soon as possible. I hate to be the one to point it out, but I have a feeling that the two of you will be staying here in "The Colonies" a bit longer than you had originally planned.

"Now, maybe you did not think that your plan to kidnap a ten-year-old boy would fail. But it had to cross your mind as at least a mathematical possibility. Nobody is going to take your son from you; least of all us or the Lovegoods. If anything, your decision to break the law did that all by itself. And if you want my two-cent's worth, I think that pulling a stunt like this is pretty irresponsible as far as Draco would be concerned."

"You still don't quite understand, you stupid muggle cow," said Narcissa. "What Lucius and I have done was all _for _Draco and Pureblooded Wizardkind! To keep our bloodlines pure and untainted by muggle filth, and to establish a world where the future of Pureblood Wizards and Witches will be guaranteed!"

Aggie shook her head. If Aggie were to look up the word "fanatic" in the dictionary, she would not be surprised to see a picture of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and Aggie knew that there would be no talking with them. She had never actually met anyone quite like them, before, and the school teacher in her found them interesting on some level. She almost wished that she had the opportunity to speak with them at length out of academic interest.

But Aggie could almost guess the answers to any questions that she might want to ask them. Kneeling on the floor before her, bound by magically conjured ropes, were two, textbook examples of Eric Hoffer's True Believers. And while Aggie Jordan did not want to think that there were any people beyond redemption, she knew that she had neither the knowledge nor the skill to reach out to these two people so overcome with fear and loathing. But there was one question that nagged at the front of her mind that she just had to ask them.

"I imagine," said Aggie clinically, "that you would have killed us – my husband and I, as well as the Lovegoods. I can also imagine you killing Corey in cold blood, and even Owen when you learned all that you could from him. But what exactly would you have done with Jenny, Ricky and Luna?"

Narcissa raised an eyebrow, smiled, and said, "What do you _think_ we would have done with them, Mrs. Jordan? We would have seen to it that they would have been given a _proper_ wizarding upbringing."

Before either the Jordans or the Lovegoods could reply, Agent Hadji Quest-Singh came through the front door, and Agent Wednesday Addams came from the back door through the kitchen of the Jordans home. Both Aurors had their wands out and were ready for anything.

"Is everyone alright?" said Agent Addams.

Ren let out a sigh of relief. He wanted to say, "What the hell took you so long? We could have been killed!" But instead, he said, "Thank G-d you are here! Are Jenny, Corey and Owen safe?"

Agent Quest-Singh glanced around the room, nodding as he spotted Ricky Jordan in his mother's arms, and Luna Lovegood sitting on the couch, taking in everything going on around her with perfect aplomb. "Where are Jenny, Corey and Owen? They're not here with you?"

"No, said Aggie. "They ran out to call for help a few minutes ago! Didn't they call you and let you know that we were in trouble?"

Agent Addams shook her head. "We came here when Agents Spellman and Graymalkin did not arrive at Headquarters with Owen and the rest of you at the scheduled time. When they did not answer their mirrors, we tried to call you on the telephone, but the line was dead. Normally, we would wait about ten minutes before investigating such a delay. But given the extraordinary importance of this situation . . . ."

"I think that the Malfoys must have cut our phone line," said Ren.

Agent Quest-Singh said, "Wednesday, I'll get Lucius and Narcissa back to Salem and send over someone to take everyone's statement. You'd better look for the kids."

Wednesday said, "Mr. and Mrs. Jordan, do you have any idea where they might have gone to use a telephone to call the FBS for help?"

"There's a small strip mall a couple of blocks down the street to your right when you go out the front door," said Ren. "Jenny knows about it. She passes it on her way to school. I'll bet dollars to doughnuts that that is where she and the boys went." Without saying anything more, Agent Addams sprinted out the door quicker than one would imagine she could in her long, Gothic dress.

In the back of his mind, Ren imagined that the dress had been enchanted to allow such movement, if necessary. But in the front of his mind, he had other concerns. Naturally first and foremost was the safety of his daughter and her friends. But another thought was vying for his immediate attention, pushing the first aside.

Ren said, "Agent Quest-Singh, before you and Agent Addams got here, the Malfoys told us that they didn't do _anything_ to our telephone. Why lie about something like that?"

"I don't know," said Hadji shaking his head. "But we can clear that up for you later, back at Salem." Agent Quest-Singh then turned his attention to the bound wizard and witch, and added, "But it does not surprise me that the Malfoys would try something like this, given what they tried to do to my family."

"What are you talking about?" said Lucius. "We have never met."

"I should think not," added Narcissa. "We do not associate with Blood Traitors!"

Without wasting another moment, Hadji took out his mirror, and contacted Salem to request _immediate_ backup.

"What did you do that for?" said Aggie, who assumed that the situation was under control. "What's wrong?"

"I won't kid you," said Agent Quest-Singh. "I think that you daughter and her friends may be in more danger out there than they would have been if they stayed here!"

Nervously, Ren said, "What do you mean?" Ren moved over to Aggie, putting his arm around her. Ricky looked up at him from Aggie's arms with wide eyes. All three Jordans were acutely feeling Jenny's absence.

"I think that the Malfoys are not the only ones after Owen Flynn," said Agent Quest-Singh. Before he could elaborate more, several more Aurors suddenly apparated into the Jordans' living room with multiple, loud "bangs!"

The Aurors promptly gathered around Agent Quest-Singh, who ordered all but two of them to fan-out and find the three missing children. He then instructed the other two to get the prisoners back to Salem. When they left with the Malfoys, Agent Quest-Singh said, "I think that someone else may be after Owen Flynn. And that their plan to take him happened to coincide with the Malfoy's attempt."

Aggie said, "We have to go and look for Jenny and her friends, Ren."

"No," said Agent Quest-Singh. "I want you to wait here for your own safety. Once Jenny, Corey and Owen are located, we are all going to Salem, where you will be safe."

"Who could be after them," said Dori, "if not the Malfoys and their ilk?"

Xeno said, "Those two were not the Malfoys, Agent Quest-Singh, were they?"

"I don't believe they were, no," said Agent Quest-Singh. "But I imagine that whoever they were, they were working _for_, if not _with_ the Malfoys. According to our best intelligence, the Malfoys left to return to England earlier this morning."

"But how?" said Ren. "We saw them transform from Agents Spellman and Graymalkin when they came to take Owen."

Dori drew a quick breath. "_Layered_ Polyjuice Potion. It's theoretically possible to layer two or more different disguises to be time-released in the same manner as some types of muggle medications."

"But why do that?" said Dori. "Were whoever those two people really are trying to, uh, "frame" the Malfoys, or something?"

"I don't know," said Agent Quest-Singh. "Hopefully, we will find out more when we get a warrant to Soulgaze those two in an hour or so. Right now, our priority is to find the missing children. But while we are waiting, there is one question that I really must ask you, Mrs. Jordan.

"Why, exactly, are you holding that _Dust Buster_ . . . ?"


	23. All Fall Down

**Chapter 23: All Fall Down**

"C'mon, you guys!" said Jenny anxiously. "There are some stores where we can call for help about three blocks this way and around the corner!"

"I know the stores you mean!" said Owen. The three kids began running down the street with Jenny taking the lead. There was a small grocery store, a coin laundromat, a Kosher Bakery and Deli, a hobby shop, and an ice-cream parlor a short distance from Jenny's house. Any one of them would have a telephone and hopefully a lot of people around. And even though the people would be muggles, any wizard or witch would think twice before trying anything stupid with so many witnesses around.

As they ran, Jenny thought that the grocery store or the Laundromat would be their best options. It was unlikely that the hobby shop and the ice-cream parlor would be open this early in the day. And the deli would be closed during the Jewish Sabbath on Saturday Morning.

Jenny did not have any money with her, but that did not matter. The emergency number for the FBS did not require any money to call from a payphone. And seconds after dialing for help, an Auror or Whitelighter would be there to get them to safety. Then then they could tell the Aurors that the grownups were in trouble back at the house. _Probably send a Whitelighter_, thought Jenny, _they could orb to us instead of apparate - which would make a loud "bang" and attract too much unwanted attention. _

They were about a block away from the corner when Corey abruptly grabbed Jenny's hand and pulled her off the sidewalk and between two houses towards the backyards, with Owen following along.

"What are you doing?" said Jenny.

"I saw some people on one of the side streets looking around," said Corey as he pulled Jenny behind a van parked on a driveway between the two houses. "It looked like one of them had a wand out. I don't think that they saw us, but they could be with the Malfoys, or something!"

"I don't think they saw us, either," said Owen as he cautiously peeked from behind the van. "But if they are looking for us, they're probably going to come this way, soon!"

"We gotta cut through the back yards," said Jenny, nearly out of breath. "We can get to the parking lot behind the store from there."

Without another word, the three children ran to the back of the line of houses. Jenny frowned. All of the backyards were enclosed by chain-link fences. But the good news was that a line of telephone poles ran in a common area about eight feet wide behind the fenced-in yards that probably went all the way back to the parking lot of the stores. What's more, Jenny could see a path worn in the grass. The neighborhood kids probably used this path as a regular short-cut to get to the stores.

The house to their left had a gate that they could use. Jenny figured that the house on the right had its gate on the other side. But the gate was not locked, and this meant that they would only have to climb the one fence to the common area.

Jenny nodded to Corey and Owen, and could see that they were sizing up the situation as well and came to the same conclusion. There were no swings, trampolines, sandboxes, or anything else that might suggest that any kids lived there. But there was a small toolshed near the back fence that they could hide behind, if need be.

Jenny reached for the latch on the gate in the fence but before she could open it, a large Doberman Pincer with cropped ears and tail came up to the gate and gave a low growl.

The three kids froze. Jenny did not have time to open the gate, so they were safe from being bitten. But if the dog began to bark, it would definitely alert the people coming after them . . . .

The dog eyed the children warily. Jenny said, "Please don't bark! Some bad men are after us! We won't go into your yard if you don't want us to, but please _don't _bark!"

Jenny would never know if what happened was by involuntary, reflexive magic, or because the dog could sense that they were in trouble. But the dog shifted from an aggressive posture to a more relaxed one, and began to wag her stubby little tail, looking up at the children with concern. "Thank you," said Jenny, barely louder than a whisper. But the dog didn't stop there. It ran over to the tool shed, and then back to the children. Again, the dog turned to walk back to the shed, but this time, she looked back, indicating that she wanted the three children to follow her back to the shed.

Jenny said, "Let's go," and opened the gate. When they were in the dog's backyard, Corey closed the gate behind them, and the children went to the shed which, like the gate, was unlocked, and went inside.

"C-close the door," said Corey, who was starting to feel the cold.

"We should leave the door wide _open_," said Owen quietly as he nodded to Jenny and smiled. "A friend of mine once said that if you do that, then anyone looking for you won't think to look somewhere the door is open." That made Jenny smile.

Then the dog began to bark loudly and the kids held their breaths. Cautiously, Jenny peaked out through a crack between the boards in the wall of the shed. Two men were standing outside of the gate as the dog barked aggressively at them, growling and snapping its teeth. Jenny could see that they both had wands. Moments later, the two men were gone. Though Jenny could not hear them talking over the dog's loud barking, she could guess what they must have been thinking: There is no way that those _kids_ could be back there, in that shed. No way that they could have gotten past _that_ angry mutt . . . .

Jenny turned back to Corey and Owen and smiled; a smile that quickly turned to a look of concern as Jenny saw Corey shivering, his arms wrapped around his wiry body.

Of the three of them, Owen was the only one fully dressed. Jenny, wearing jeans and a sweater, but in stocking feet, was next. But Corey only had on jeans, a tee-shirt, and a pair of white, athletic socks. He had swapped his blue-plaid pajama bottoms for his jeans when he woke up, planning to put on a sweatshirt and shoes when the Aurors actually arrived to take them to Salem. For that matter, if he had not worn socks to bed, he would have probably been barefoot, as he normally liked to be when he was indoors.

Jenny moved closer to Corey, putting her arms around him. "It'll be alright, Corey. We'll be able to leave in a minute or two, and once we get to the store, it will be warm there until the Aurors can get to us!"

Owen moved over to sit next to Corey on his other side, leaning into his new friend to share some body heat (but stopping short of putting his arms around him.) "We'd better get to that warm store soon, Jenny. Corey will be frozen solid if we stay here too much longer."

"I-I'll b-be OK, once we g-get moving, again," said Corey. Jenny nodded reassuringly, but was worried about her now-official boyfriend of less than a full day. As active as he was, Corey had very little body fat.

"The dog stopped barking," said Jenny. "I think those two men are gone, now. We should get moving." The three kids stood up to go, and Jenny cautiously peeked out the door of the shed. The dog that had helped them was sitting in front of the door, giving them a sympathetic look as she wagged her tail. Jenny smiled at the dog, gave her a pat on the head, and said, "Thanks, girl!"

The three kids then moved around the back of the shed, which was only about three feet from the chain-link fence that separated the house's backyard from the common area with the telephone poles with the pooch bringing up the rear. Corey asked Owen to climb the fence, first, so there would be one of them on each side to help Jenny over. When Owen and Jenny were safely over to the other side, Corey climbed up and over the fence, and jumped down, wincing in pain as he landed with a yelp.

"Corey, what's wrong?" said Jenny as her boyfriend gritted his teeth hard.

"Oh, man!" said Owen. "Don't look down, Jenny!"

But Jenny did look down, gasping in horror as she saw a red spot standing out starkly against the white of Corey's sock on his right foot. The red spot slowly spread out wider and wider. And in the center, Jenny saw the point of a rusty nail poking out.

Corey fell to his knees and began to cry. As he did so, Jenny and Owen saw that he had stepped on a board that was hidden by fallen leaves that had a nail coming through. Though the back yard that they just came from had been meticulously raked of all leaves, there was a large pile built-up against each side of the fences within the common area. And the pile they came down on was hiding some old boards. Some of them with nails in them.

"Oh, Corey, why couldn't you have worn shoes?" said Jenny.

But before Corey could reply, Owen said, "That nail would have probably gone through my sneakers if I landed on it; especially that hard!"

"We gotta get that out of him!" Jenny put her arms around Corey as she helped him sit with his back against the fence. From behind the fence, the dog whined softly, and licked Corey's ear through the chain links. Then Owen tried to pull the board and the nail away from his friend's foot, but Corey winced in agony when Owen barely touched it.

"L-leave - leave it in!" said Corey through clenched teeth. "Jenny, get Owen to a telephone and call for help! I'll be alright, for now. You can send someone for me when you and Owen are safe.

"Jenny, I need my mom and dad . . . !"

As Corey was speaking, Owen had removed his shirt and undershirt; giving his undershirt to Corey as he slipped his shirt back on. "Use this for the bleeding while we are gone!" Corey thanked Owen as he accepted the shirt.

Jenny added, "We'll have someone come and get you in a few minutes!" Then Jenny gave Corey a quick kiss straight on his lips.

"If I knew that you were going to do _that_," said Corey with a wan smile, "I w-would have stepped on a nail _sooner_ . . . ."

"I love you," said Jenny. And then she and Owen began sprinting down the strip of common land to the stores at the other end.

"I love you, too." Jenny's kiss made Corey feel warm all over and he smiled. The sight of the rusty nail coming out of his foot made Corey feel a bit nauseous. But it was nothing that his mom couldn't fix with a wave of her wand. His main concern was for Jenny and Owen. But the worst thing that could happen to him is that the dog might alert the people in the house, who would find him and call for an ambulance, forcing him to wear a bandage and use crutches for at least a month! But with any luck, an Auror would apparate to him in a few minutes, and his mom would be able to make everything all better.

And then, once Jenny and Owen were safe, Corey's main worry would be if his dad wanted to give him a booster tetanus shot . . . .

Gingerly, Corey held Owen's tee-shirt against the wound to help stem the bleeding. Despite Jenny's quick kiss, Corey was beginning once more to feel the cold, and began to shiver. But then the dog from the yard jumped over the fence and came over to the wounded boy. She made a quiet whining sound as she sat on Corey's lap to help him stay warm, and gave him a reassuring lick on his cheek, as if to say that he would not be alone until help arrived.

"H-hey, girl," said Corey. "Thanks for everything! You're a _really_ good dog!" The dog responded by wagging her tail. "You know w-what, ah," Corey checked the tag on the dog's collar, "Polly! That's a good name for a dog! You know what, Polly? I'm going to marry Jenny Jordan, someday! And Owen Flynn will be my Best Man!"

Corey hugged the dog, as much in thanks as to get warm. It wouldn't be too much longer until help arrived . . . .

It did not take Jenny Jordan and Owen Flynn long to reach the group of stores at the end of the common area corridor. They soon found themselves in the parking lot behind the hobby shop, the Kosher Bakery and Deli, and the laundromat. The grocery store and the ice cream parlor were on the other side of the street. Running around to the front of the stores, Jenny could see through the laundromat's plate glass windows that only three people were inside; an elderly woman and two college-age guys. And as luck would have it, both of the college guys were using two of the three payphones. The Kosher Deli was closed, of course, and the hobby shop would not open until nine.

Across the street, the ice cream parlor was closed, but the grocery store was open. Jenny could see that the parking lot was about half-full. Though the payphones were outside, none were being used at the moment, and a steady stream of customers was going in and out. Jenny turned to Owen and nodded. This was just what her father had told her to look for if she found herself in such a situation.

Jenny checked her watch. It was only a little after eight in the morning. Jenny could not believe that everything that had just happened to them had all occurred within the space of about a half an hour! But it would soon be ending. Corey would get the medical attention that he needed and Aurors would be sent to help her parents and the Lovegoods. And Owen would be safe and could show everyone about Storybrooke from his memories.

The traffic was too heavy to simply cross the street from where they were, so Jenny and Owen ran to the corner to use the crosswalk. The "Don't Walk" sign was lit, and Jenny desperately jabbed at the button, praying that the signal would change, half-hoping that some involuntary, reflexive magic would come into play. But the "Don't Walk" sign remained lit.

Jenny then realized how truly tired she was. Between almost no sleep the night before and her worry about what she heard the Aurors tell her and the quick escape from their home, Jenny had not felt this weak since the year before when she had the flu. She didn't have any reflexive magic in reserve to change a traffic light, much less heal Corey when he landed on that nail.

From behind them, a man's voice said, "Jenny Jordan, Owen Flynn?"

Jenny gasped, and then grabbed Owen's hand, preparing to sprint across the street. But the traffic was not letting up. Jenny then prepared to pull Owen over to the laundromat. But found that that way was blocked by another man. "It's alright, you two," said the second man smiling. "We're with the FBS."

Owen let out a sigh of relief, but Jenny tensed, and said, "You're not wizards!"

"No," said the first man. "We are actually with S.H.I.E.L.D., on _loan_ to the FBS."

"If you give us a moment," said the second man. "We can show you our ID's . . . ."

Jenny remained tense as both men simultaneously reached into their jacket pockets, and each removed some very official-looking photo ID's. Unlike the characters in Cop Shows who would flash their badges quickly, and then returned them to their shirt pockets, these men handed their ID's to the children, allowing them to peruse them as carefully as they wanted to.

The first man, who was identified by his badge as Special Agent Michaels, said, "Jennifer, the Malfoys are in FBS / S.H.I.E.L.D. custody, and your family is safe."

The other man, identified by his badge as Special Agent Johnson, added, "Your parents, your little brother, Corey Martindale, and the Lovegoods have been escorted back to Salem. As soon as we get the two of you there, we can begin interviewing Owen."

"But we need to go, now," said Agent Michaels. "Our car is parked down the block. A witch is waiting for us a few blocks from here. Once we get you to her, she will be able to apparate the two of you to Salem."

Jenny and Owen handed the badges back to the men, and then followed them to their car. Once inside, they began driving further away from Jenny's new neighborhood in University City and into the nearby neighborhood of Olivette. The men drove straight through a nice looking residential neighborhood, turning left at an Elementary School and then right into the entrance of a park just opposite of the school.

A wooden sign at the entrance said "Welcome to Stacey Park," but Jenny frowned when she saw that the gates of the park were closed and locked. A sign posted on the gates stated that the park would be opening late that morning due to problems with the restrooms in the pavilion. Agent Michaels unlocked the gates, drove through, and then got out to lock the gates behind them. He then parked the car in the nearest available space and killed the engine.

Jenny said, "Why are we stopping here?"

Agent Johnson said, "The witch told us that apparating makes a lot of noise. So we needed a place where we could do this without attracting too much attention." He pointed to the large, open field at the other end of the park, where several baseball diamonds were set up. "She's meeting us way over there. Then, once you two are safely away, we can remove the sign from the park gates."

"Makes sense!" said Owen. But Jenny was starting to feel nervous.

As they began walking towards the baseball field, Jenny asked conversationally, "I wonder why they didn't just tell you to take us to the Floo Station, Owen. That would have been a lot easier."

"The Floo Station is closed, for now," said Agent Michaels, "to prevent any more of the Malfoy's minions from coming here without making a ruckus. _That's reasonable_, thought Jenny, who still felt uneasy, despite Agent Michaels' perfectly logical explanation. "But we've got to pick up the pace, kids. That witch will be here anytime now, and she specified that she wants to be in and out in a hurry."

"With any luck," said Agent Johnson smiling, "the locals will think that a car backfired a couple of times, or something, and that will be the end of it."

Though Owen could barely contain his excitement, Jenny could not help feeling more and more uneasy. Something was not quite right about this whole situation. It would have been one thing if she had called the FBS and someone apparated over to meet them, and all this happened. Sure, Agents Michaels and Johnson seemed like the real deal with their badges and all. And they _did_ know about her family and the Lovegoods being held by the Malfoys until the FBS came to rescue them. Except . . . .

"Agent Michaels," said Jenny slowly. "How is _Corey_ doing? I'm so worried about him. The Malfoys hurt him pretty badly. Is his arm alright?"

Without skipping a beat, Agent Michaels said, "Corey is one tough boy, Jenny. His mom fixed up his arm the moment we got him back to Salem."

Agent Johnson added, "He's worried about you and Owen, Jenny. We'd contact Salem now, but the FBS and S.H.I.E.L.D. are maintaining telephone and radio silence until you two are back with everyone else."

Jenny quickly sized-up the situation. They were almost halfway to the end of the baseball field, in the middle of about fifty square yards of open space. There would be no place to hide, and the gates to the park were locked. Without even realizing it, Jenny gasped, and that was all the telegraphing that "Agents Michaels and Johnson" needed.

"Agent Michaels" grabbed Jenny by her arm, holding her in a vicelike grip. But instead of "Agent Johnson" doing likewise with Owen, the fake S.H.I.E.L.D. agent got down on one knee before the boy; the better to speak with him face-to-face, and said, "Alright, Owen. I guess you must have figured out that my brother and I are not Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. But in this case, that is good for you, because S.H.I.E.L.D. has no more intention to rescue your father than these magic users do." He jerked his head back in Jenny's direction.

"What do you mean?" said Owen, more confused than worried. "If you are not Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., then who are you?"

"Something better," said "Agent Michaels;" who had no problem restraining a frightened, ten-year-old girl. "Something much, much better: We are people who actually _want_ to rescue your father from the magical, extra-dimensional Invaders in Maine!"

"We are from a group known as "The Home Office," said "Agent Johnson." "And while it might look otherwise, we are here to help you, Owen; you and everyone else in our world - unlike S.H.I.E.L.D., or magic users like this girl and her family."

"LET ME GO!" screamed Jenny as she struggled to break free of "Agent Michaels'" grip. "OWEN, RUN! SOMEBODY HELP US!"

"You can scream all you want to, little witch," said "Agent Michaels." "We are way too far from anyone who can hear you scream!"

But instead of running away, Owen shifted his gaze back and forth a few times from "Agent Michaels" to "Agent Johnson," and said, "W-why are you doing this . . . ?"

With a calm, reasonable voice, "Agent Johnson" said, "Please, Owen, if you will only give us a moment to explain what "The Home Office" is; then all will be clear."

"RUN, OWEN!" said Jenny again.

But Owen did not run. Though he looked uneasy at how "Agent Michaels" was holding Jenny, Owen said, "Alright, what's the Home Office?"

"An organization of concerned people who are trying to rid this world of any and all magic," replied Johnson. "Magic is _unholy_, and does _not_ belong in our world."

"Magic caused us to lose our sister Wendy when we were kids," said Michaels. "It happened – let's just say that it happened some time ago, now. And we have lived with it for longer than you can imagine."

Jenny was still trying to squirm out of Michaels' grip. But in the back of her mind, she could not help but notice a slight change in Michaels' voice. For a moment, he almost sounded like he was talking the way the Lovegoods did.

"The Home Office is helping us rescue our sister from the powerful magic user who is holding her prisoner," said Johnson. "And please believe me; The Home Office wants to do the same for your father."

"So does the FBS!" said Jenny. "But they can't if you don't let them know what you saw when you were in Storybrooke!"

"Alright," said Johnson conversationally. "Let's say that the wizards and witches in this world really do care about rescuing your father from their friends in Maine –"

"They are _not_ our friends!" said Jenny. "They invaded our world and made us run from our homes!"

"- they still plan to take their sweet time about it; but not us," continued Johnson despite Jenny's interruption.

Owen looked at Jenny. It was a look that made her shiver. It was not an angry look, or a mean look, or even a confused look: it was an "I'm waiting for an answer," look. Whatever else Owen was, he was open-minded, but not gullible. Jenny knew that if you made an amazing statement to Owen, you needed to back it up with equally amazing proof.

But Jenny knew that how she answered whatever Owen was about to ask her could make or break the situation (just like when they were talking in that dumpster what seemed like eons ago.) And even if Owen believed her over these two grown-ups, would they let Owen and Jenny go if Owen turned down their "offer?" Jenny already knew the answer to that one. But she had to try.

"Owen," said Jenny as calmly as she could, given the fact that Michaels still had her slender wrist in a vicelike grip. "Please; we want to help you. Everybody wants to help you. But whatever we do, we can't just rush Storybrooke with Aurors, Whitelighers and Meta-Humans and muggles in tanks and helicopters. I found out earlier this morning that Regina Mills is just too powerful.

"If we try to send in anyone to get your dad away from Storybrooke, then Regina will know that we are here – that this world is _not_ a land without magic – and if she finds that out, she may try to attack us with her spell – her curse, actually!

"Regina has a curse that brought everyone from her kingdom into our world. Her land is now kind of sitting alongside the forest in Maine that she came into. But that is only because she wanted it to share the space. But if she thought that we were any kind of threat to her, then she could actually _replace_ the forest with Storybrooke! She can replace one of our cities with something else with that curse - a whole bunch of our cities, if she wants to – _anywhere_ on our world. And we wouldn't be able to stop her with anything that we've got!"

Johnson smiled, and said, "Owen, I think that what this witch is _really_ trying to say is –"

But Owen Flynn held up his hand for silence, and Johnson stopped talking. Jenny felt a surge of relief when that happened. Owen had yet to make up his mind, and was prepared to listen to whatever Jenny had to say. He fixed Jenny with a neutral expression, and said, "How long have you known about this, Jenny?"

"Owen, I just found this out last night – actually, early this morning. I woke up really early and heard dad and Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood talking in the kitchen. You and Corey were fast asleep in the living room. They were talking to some Aurors who said that it wouldn't be safe to try to rescue your dad, now. That they needed to know more before they can do anything that would let Regina know that we have people who can do magic, too." Jenny began to sniffle, but held back her tears. "M-my daddy said that he couldn't stop Regina if she came to our house to hurt us! The Lovegoods said the same thing! I even saw her in the pensieve pull out a man's _heart_ in her own world and crush it! It would take someone like the _Sorcerer Supreme_ to fight her; and even then if Regina has a friend back in the Enchanted Realms who can start casting the curse for her, we wouldn't . . . we wouldn't . . . _we couldn't_ . . . ."

"So . . . your people are _not_ going to rescue my dad from Regina," said Owen.

"We . . . we can't help your dad, _now_," admitted Jenny softly. "I _want_ to. But the grownups are right. Regina is too powerful for us to try anything right now.

"Owen, I can't imagine what it must be like to lose my mom and dad. And if it happened to me, I would want them back with me now. I know you must be upset, but if we tried to do what we want to do and make an all-out attack on Storybrooke, a lot of people would get killed! That's why the grownups need to see what you saw when you were there!

"Please, Owen, don't go with these guys! Let my family and the Lovegoods and the grownups in the FBS and S.H.I.E.L.D. help you!"

Michaels quipped, "By sitting on their butts while your dad suffers?"

Owen turned to Michaels, and said, "What would your Home Office do different for me."

"We'd rescue your dad, ASAP!" said Michaels.

Jenny stammered, "B-but that's what our people are going to do for you, Owen." She turned to the two adults, and added, "And get your sister back, too!"

Johnson said flatly, "We don't want your help, witch."

"Magic users are not to be trusted," added Michaels. "We learned that the hard way."

"A magic user took our sister, Wendy," said Johnson.

Jenny said, "But you can't blame us for that! Just because there are _some _bad magic users, that doesn't mean that we are all bad! Most of us are good! Just like there are good mutants and bad mutants and good meta-humans and bad meta-humans! Wizards and witches are people, too, Owen! I know you agree with that because you told me that you did!"

"Yeah, I did . . . ," said Owen evenly.

"My dad and the Lovegoods are nothing like Baron Mordo and Doctor Doom!" said Jenny. "Or the people who took their sister! My family is just like yours, except that we can do magic."

"And that is reason enough not to trust her, Owen," said Michaels. "Just ask yourself this: how, _exactly_, are people like Jenny Jordan and her dad and these Lovegoods able to do what they do?

"Think, Owen, do Jenny and her daddy have an "X-Gene," or something? Were they exposed to Delta or Gamma radiation? Does she actually come from some alien world, and gets her powers from our Yellow Sun?"

Johnson turned to Jenny, and added, "How about it, kid? Are you and your dad really some kind of meta-humans or mutates?"

"N-no, we're _human_, but –"

"It's alright, Jenny. You can tell us. We already know more than you could possibly imagine. And I am sure that Owen, here, would like to know it, as well."

"I already told you, Owen," said Jenny softly, "yesterday, when we talked in the park dumpster. Magic is not some form of telekinesis or mutant ability or superpower; it just is.

"Owen, I'm a _person_, just like you. But I have the ability to do magic. The way some people can sing or are good at sports like Corey is. It's a natural _gift_, Owen. But it doesn't make me any less of a person, like you are."

"But where does this "magic" come from, Owen?" pressed Michaels. "Look at this." Michaels reached into his jacket and removed a small electronic device. He pointed it at Jenny, and then showed the readout screen to Owen. "Flatscan. No altered or mutated DNA. And she says that she is a person like _you_ . . . ?"

Jenny said, "Owen, I –"

"_Well_, witch?" said Johnson. "You have no _scientific explanation_ of your powers? And you claim to be human like us?"

"How about it, Jenny?" added Michaels. "Are you an extraterrestrial? You can tell us. Explain your powers. Tell Owen how you can do what you can do."

Jenny looked at Owen, and said, "I told you. There is no scientific explanation. Magic just is!"

"Magic just is _evil_, Owen," said Johnson. "What more proof do you need that magic is unholy, and does not belong in our world? _IT CAN'T BE EXPLAINED_!"

Owen Flynn shifted his attention from Jennifer to Michaels and Johnson, unsure of what to think. Jenny had befriended him when no one else would, and seemed to try to help him. But when she found out about the grownups' plan to not rescue his dad from Regina Mills immediately, and did not tell him about it . . . .

A loud "bang" caught everyone by surprise as a woman with long dark hair in a Gothic black dress suddenly appeared. She was holding a wand and had it pointed directly at Michaels and Johnson.

"I'm Auror Wednesday Addams with the United States Federal Bureau of Sorcery! Step away from the children, "gentlemen!" Without taking her eyes off the two muggle men, she said, "Jenny, Owen, are you hurt? We're all worried about you two. Where is Corey –"

Before Agent Addams could say another word, the two men both drew odd looking pistols and fired. Michaels shot Agent Addams and Johnson shot Jenny.

Jenny gasped, instinctively bringing her hands to her chest where she had been struck, where she felt something warm and wet. Her eyes met Owen's, who was standing there in shock.

"Snap out of it, kid!" said Michaels as he and Johnson re-holstered their pistols. "They're not shot for real. These are paintball marker guns. But the balls aren't exactly loaded with _paint_."

Johnson added, "But they can't stop us from getting away with magic and getting you to safety, either!"

"I – I can't move!" said Jennifer, who was near panic. "What's happening? What have you done to me and Agent Addams?"

Agent Addams couldn't move, either, but that did not stop her from glowering at the two men, though she was speaking primarily to Jennifer. "Breathe rhythmically, Jennifer. This is serious, but the effects will wear off, eventually." She then addressed the two men, and added, "So the stories are true, I see. Squid-ink isn't just something that my Grandmamma and Uncle Fester told me in their bedtime stories to scare my brother and me into good behavior. "So, where on Earth did you get the squid-ink, "gentlemen?" Let me guess: was it Prince Namor . . . ?"

"What's happening to Jenny?" said Owen. The girl seemed to be gasping for breath.

"Merlin's beard!" said Agent Addams. "She's starting to hyperventilate! If she is injured in any way because of what you two did to her, then I'll . . . ."

"Turn us into frogs, or something, witch?" said Michaels dryly. "I'd like to see you try it with a layer of squid-ink on you before we leave. Ah, right on time. Look up . . . ."

Agent Addams could not move her neck, but she rolled her eyes skyward and saw a Bell 206 Jet Ranger coming closer and closer, obviously preparing to land in the baseball field. Seconds later, it landed. Michaels yelled over the engine and rotor noise, "I'm going to give you something that these people never gave you; a choice. You can come with us, or stay with these magic users.

"It's now or never, Owen! Come with us and we'll get your dad back and our sister back and drive all magic from our world!"

Johnson added, "Currently, the effects of squid-ink to dampen magic are only temporary. But our Home Office scientists are working on making this a more permanent solution to the magical plague. We are working to make it into a cure!"

"But to do this, we need more test subjects to experiment on," said Michaels. He looked at Agent Addams and Jennifer Jordan with a predator's eyes. "Fortunately for you two witches, we cannot bring you with us, now. Our mission is to rescue Owen and his father. But don't worry. We'll be coming for others like you, soon enough."

"So, Owen, are you coming, or not?" said Johnson. "Unlike with these people, the choice is yours."

"But remember this, Owen," added Michaels. "We never lied to you."

Jenny looked pleadingly at Owen. But Owen shook his head, and said, "I'm sorry, Jenny, but you did lie to me. And the Home Office will get my dad back, no matter what."

Jenny barely had her breathing under control, and could say nothing as she saw Owen join the two men in the helicopter. Moments later, they were airborne and Owen Flynn was gone.

What seemed like hours later, Jenny then heard three more "bangs" of apparation, as well as the sounds of three Aurors running up to them. She could not see who they were, but a husky male voice yelled, "Sis!"

Agent Addams said, "Don't touch me, Pugsley! Code Deep Blue Eight Protocol!"

"Wait, _what_?!" said the man's voice. "Seriously?!"

From the corner of her eye, Jenny saw a heavy set Wizard next to Agent Addams, as the two others, a thinner wizard and a young witch, backed away from Agent Addams and the agent named Pugsley, who was apparently Agent Addams brother.

"Oh, c'mon, you two!" said the Auror named Pugsley. "It's not the flu, or something! It isn't something you can catch just by being near her! And the effect is temporary!"

"But do we know that for certain?" said the other wizard cautiously.

"J-just following the protocol, sir!" said the young witch.

"Y-yeah, me too," said the wizard, who then took out a mirror and began babbling into it.

As the young wizard did this, the young witch pointed her wand at Agent Addams and Jenny, and said "Aguamenti Maxima!"

Jenny shrieked as she felt herself being drenched with cold water, made colder by the chilly morning air.

"Try "Aguamenti Maxima _Tepidus_," moron!" spat Agent Addams. "It's in the high 30's, you know!"

The witch amended her charm accordingly, and then Pugsley joined in with one of his own. As the young witch continued to rinse-off Jenny, Pugsley did the same to Agent Addams.

"What's their ETA?" said Pugsley to the young witch. "We can't go to Salem like this!"

"The muggle Hazmat Team will be here in moments to take us to the nearest Deep Blue Eight Decon Facility, sir."

"Hang in there, sis," said Pugsley to Agent Addams. "We'll have the two of you in Decon for a more thorough cleaning and testing, shortly . . . ."

As the Home Office Helicopter sped through the morning sky, Michaels said, "You won't regret your decision, Owen."

"I'll do whatever is necessary to get my dad back from that witch, Regina Mills," said Owen.

"But the first order of business is what to call you, now," said Johnson. "Those magic users and their human allies will be looking for Owen Flynn. You'll need a new name."

Owen thought about those comic books that his dad got him a little before he was taken by Regina Mills of Storybrooke, and said, "I'd like to be called Greg. Greg Mendell. Like the scientist.

"It's going to take science to defeat magic . . . ."

Both Michaels and Johnson nodded, and the helicopter flew on.


	24. The Effects of Squid Ink

**Chapter 24: The Effects of Squid Ink**

Groggily, Jennifer Jordan slowly became aware of her surroundings as recent memories began coming back. She remembered people in rubber suits taking her and Auror Wednesday Addams in a van, setting them down on cots and strapping them in as they sped-off to an unknown destination for "Decon." Though Jenny couldn't be sure, she felt at one point as though they went through a large Floo Hearth, van and all.

When they finally arrived and were taken out of the van, Jenny and Auror Addams were separated, and Jenny was brought into a large room that vaguely reminded her of the showers in the girl's locker room at the high school where she and Owen and the rest of her class had swimming lessons in another, past life.

Still under the effects of the squid-ink that that creep named Johnson got her with, Jenny said nothing as three women in rubber suits began cutting her (favorite) sweater and jeans off of her. The women then tossed the rags as well as the scissors they had used into a thick metal box marked "HAZMAT." They then turned on the showerheads, and water came down on Jenny like a heavy cloudburst.

"Should we cut her hair?" said one of the ladies.

"No," replied another, who was clearly in charge as she looked at the ten-year-old witch sympathetically. "Her "pixie-cut" is short, enough. Just give her a thorough shampooing three times over."

"I'd sure hate to be that Agent Addams about now," remarked the third.

After the shower (which seemed to go on for hours and hours) finally ended, Jenny felt herself able to move again, and was able to walk (sort of) under her own steam. As they helped Jenny dry off, one of the ladies said, "Jenny, do you think that you can do some magic for us if we brought you a wand, honey?"

Before Jenny could reply, the lady in charge said, "She's ten. They're only able to do involuntary, reflexive magic at that age. Besides, I'll bet the poor girl is absolutely exhausted. She should rest, first. Let's get her to her room . . . ."

When Jennifer Jordan had finally woken up, she found herself in a simple room with a bed, a nightstand, and a table. A small door that Jenny intuitively assumed lead to a bathroom was off to the side. Oddly, there was what appeared to be a large, curtained window on the wall at the foot of the bed. But Jenny did not see any doors on the wall that might lead out of the room.

A recent conversation played in her mind:

In Johnson's voice, _"Currently, the effects of squid-ink to dampen magic are only temporary. But our Home Office scientists are working on making this a more permanent solution to the magical plague. We are working to make it into a cure!"_

And, in Michaels' voice, _"But to do this, we need more test subjects to experiment on . . . ."_

_Test subjects . . . ?!_

But before Jenny could panic, she remembered that she had been taken by people that the FBS Aurors had called. _And besides_, thought Jenny with a small surge of relief, _muggles use heavy locks on doors to keep people they want to hold from leaving. They _don't _transfigure doors into part of the wall._

Jenny sat up in the bed and looked around for some way to call someone, like a telephone or an intercom. Seeing none of these, Jenny called out, "Hello? Can anyone hear me?"

And just as soon as she spoke, the curtains on the window of the wall at the foot of the bed drew back, giving Jenny a view into a hallway through a thick Plexiglas barrier. Seconds later, an old witch with a kindly smile came up the hallway and stood on the other side of the barrier. She started to speak, but Jenny shook her head; Jenny could not hear anything the witch was saying to her. Looking somewhat embarrassed, the elderly witch took out her wand, and with a swish and flick, Jenny could hear her voice as though they were both in the same room.

"I do apologize, dear," said the witch. "I _always_ forget to do that part when talking to someone in isolation."

The witch then asked if Jenny had a good rest, and then bade Jenny to clean up and get dressed. With another flourish of her wand, the witch then teleported a plastic bag containing some fresh clothes and some personal cleaning items onto Jenny's bed. Jenny checked, and found a simple ensemble consisting of white, linen shorts and a tee-shirt sealed in a plastic bag. Another plastic bag held a small bar of soap, a washcloth and towel, and a toothbrush and toothpaste.

It did not take Jenny long to get cleaned up, especially after the thorough scrubbing that she remembered getting when she first arrived here (wherever "here" was,) and when she was done, the witch teleported a tray with a light breakfast onto the small table. Before the elderly witch got up to go, Jenny asked about her family, and how long she had been asleep. The witch said that Jenny would get to see her family "soon," and that she had slept for almost a full day.

"But, where am I?" pressed the frightened girl.

"You are safely at the Potomac Shore Wizard's Hospital Quarantine Facility, because of your exposure to squid-ink," replied the witch, who Jenny noticed had lowered her voice by several decibels when she said the last two words before she turned to leave.

"Please, ma'am," said Jenny. "How much longer do I have to stay in here? When can I leave and go home . . . ?" But the elderly witch had left so quickly down the hallway that Jenny could not imagine her leaving any faster if she had apparated.

Though Jenny was not very hungry, she nibbled at the waffles and fruit that the kindly witch had brought to her, and drank a little of the chocolate milk. When she had finished eating, the witch removed the tray with a flick of her wand, and told Jenny that her family had just arrived, and would be with her shortly, raising Jenny's spirits immensely.

But when her mom, dad and little brother and even the Lovegoods arrived, Jenny was not allowed out of the room to be with them.

From her side of the thick, Plexiglas partition that kept them apart, Jenny Jordan watched as her parents and the Lovegoods spoke with the Healer that had been assigned to her case. Though she kept her ears open to what the adults were saying about her, Jenny mainly concentrated on playing a game of pat-a-cake with Ricky through the partition, occasionally glancing up at Luna Lovegood in her mom's arms. Jenny was not surprised to see the one-year-old witch regarding everything that was going on around her with her usual detached interest.

Ren Jordan shook his head with exasperation. "So, exactly _how long_ does our daughter have to remain here in quarantine?"

Healer Wetzel replied, "According to established guidelines, we can't discharge her until she can demonstrate that she is able to perform some basic magic. Indeed, we were hoping that Jennifer would have performed some reflexive magic upon waking up in such a disorientating situation. A lot of kids her age would. But she still has to demonstrate that she is able to do magic before we may discharge her. That is the protocol in a situation like this."

"And when, exactly," said Xenophilius Lovegood. "Was the last time that a 'situation like this' has ever actually occurred? As far as I can tell, there has not been a case of a witch or wizard getting splashed with squid-ink in over a thousand years!"

"Look, Healer Wetzel," said Aggie. "My daughter has been in that room for _two days_, ever since those goons who took Owen squirted her and Agent Addams with that stuff. You've scrubbed them both down like they were technicians at Three Mile Island. Agent Addams hasn't lost any of her magical abilities. What makes you think that Jenny is still affected?"

Before Healer Wetzel could respond, he was relieved to see the Martindale family and Auror Wednesday Addams coming down the corridor towards them. The latter was almost unrecognizable with her hair cropped so closely as part of her own decontamination cleaning. The poor witch's hair was actually shorter than Jenny's pixie-cut, and she wore a long, black scarf over her head, undoubtedly to feel the weight of _something_ over her shoulders until her hair grew back.

"Ah, Rachel," said Healer Wetzel as his colleague, her muggle husband, their son, and the Auror came up to them. "I was trying to explain to the Jordans and the Lovegoods that until Jennifer here is able to demonstrate –"

"Jennifer Jordan is _ten-years-old_, Healer Wetzel," said Rachel Martindale reasonably. "She has only been ten for about a month, now. She has yet to get a wand. The only magic that she is capable of performing at that age is _involuntary_, reflexive magic under _stressful _conditions. You really _aren't_ planning to keep the poor girl here until she's almost done with Fifth Grade, are you?"

Before Healer Wetzel could repeat his statement for his colleague about trying to coax a magical response out of Jennifer, Agent Addams said evenly, "I was able to perform magic even _before_ I got out of the decontamination shower. It probably wasn't even necessary to cut off almost all of my hair, but I was a good sport about it when you all insisted that I had to comply with 'established protocol.'

"My dear, sweet Uncle Fester gave me this scarf. He enchanted it to encourage my hair to grow back quicker. But then, if you've ever seen my Uncle Fester, you might not feel too confident in his magical hair re-growing ability. Still, it is the thought that counts."

"Walter," said Rachel, addressing her colleague by his first name, "those protocols for squid-ink exposure were written hundreds of years ago – _long after_ the last wizard or witch had ever even been exposed to squid-ink. Based on the swiftness of Auror Addams' recovery, I think that it is safe to say that Jenny is clear of all the effects of that squid-ink she got squirted with."

As the adults debated, Corey went over to the glass partition, and put his hand against the barrier keeping Jenny and him separated. Jenny put her hand against the barrier opposite Corey's hand, and said, "How's your foot, Corey?"

"Oh, I was able to walk again without any problems about an hour after they brought me to the Schaumberg Wizards' Hospital."

"Did your mom fix you up?"

"No, another healer named Dr. Bombay did," said Corey as he removed his shoe and sock. "Check it out, Jenny! Dr. Bombay completely fixed the bottom of my foot so I wouldn't have to walk on a scar; he said that that could cause a lot of problems for me, later on. But I asked mom if I can keep the one on top where the nail came through, and she said yes! She said I earned it! Dr. Bombay thought so, too! So did the nurses and high school age candy-stripers. But I told _them_ that I was _already _spoken for!"

Jenny barely heard Corey as she looked at the livid weal on top of his right foot, but only for a moment. She then looked at his broad grin, and felt much better. "D-did it hurt, much, Corey?"

"Not really," said Corey. "It only hurt when I tried to move. You remember the dog that helped us? Well, she was growling at the Aurors, trying to keep them away from me. Luckily, one of them was an animagus, and turned into a dog, too. I don't know what he said to that pooch, but she then let them come up and help me.

"Then we apparated straight to the Wizards' Hospital. After Dr. Bombay took care of me, mom and dad came in, and I told them what happened. They were crying and they hugged me and kissed me a lot. And then the pain started."

"What happened?"

Corey sighed. "Dad made me get a tetanus booster and a shot of penicillin just to play it safe; both where the sun don't shine." That made Jenny giggle.

"So, when are they going to let you out of there, Jenny? You look like those pictures of the astronauts when they first came back from the Moon and Mars."

"They say that I can't come out until I can show them that I can still do magic," said Jenny sadly. "Dad says that that could be anywhere from six to nine months from now! I heard them talking to someone from Magical Children's Services about getting me a tutor until they let me out!"

"Well, don't worry, Jenny," said Corey with another big smile. "I'll come and visit you every day until they do! And when they do, I'll give you the biggest hug and kiss you've ever gotten!"

"I can't wait!" said Jenny as she and Corey pressed their lips against the Plexiglas barrier, only to find that they were actually kissing each other on their lips! Because of that realization, Jennifer Jordan and Corey Martindale were only vaguely aware of flashing lights and alarms going off. The Plexiglas barrier between them had disappeared, and Corey helped Jenny slip out of the room and into the hallway. Once there, they both hugged each other and soon, Ricky joined in, giving his sister a big hug as muggle staff (and wizard staff in hazmat suits,) came rushing in.

When someone finally had the good sense to shut off the alarms and flashing lights, Healer Martindale said, "Well, there's your proof of magical abilities! I would say that Miss Jordan caused the quarantine barrier to vanish so she could get that hug from my son!"

"No!" said Healer Wetzel as he scrambled for an emergency hazmat suit stored in a compartment on the wall. "Not so fast! How do we know that the _boy_ didn't do it?"

"Because my son is a _muggle_!" said Rachel. "Didn't you know? I thought that _everyone_ here knew _that_!"

"Oh . . . ," said Healer Wetzel, backing away from the hazmat suit compartment with as much dignity as he could muster. Healer Wetzel blinked. The Plexiglas barrier was back in place.

"That was pretty impressive, Jenny," said Agent Addams with a smile.

"I would quite agree," said Xeno, tapping the restored barrier. "She not only made this big piece of Perspex vanish but reappear as well!"

Aggie gave her daughter a hug as soon as Jenny let go of Corey. She then turned to Healer Wetzel, and said, "Now will you let Jenny come home with us?"

Healer Wetzel nodded, and said, "I have no reason to keep her, here. But I have been asked by the FBS to let them know before your daughter has been discharged. They want to ask you a few things, young lady. If you will all kindly follow me to one of the conference rooms, I can let the FBS know that we are ready."

After a brief side trip to the nearest women's bathroom so Jenny could change into the clothes that her parents brought with them for her, the Jordans went to the conference room where the Lovegoods and the Martindales were waiting for them to arrive. Also present were Agent Wednesday Addams and several other FBS Representatives, including Agent Hadji Quest-Singh and a rather heavy-set young man who Jenny told her mom and dad was Agent Addams' older brother, Pugsley, and that he is also an Auror.

There were also a few people there who were clearly not with the FBS. Some of the people wore nametags identifying them as being with the UK's Ministry of Magic. One of them, a fierce looking man with an enchanted, artificial eye, and holding a mean looking staff instead of a wand, looked at everyone coming into the room with guarded suspicion.

Ren didn't catch the Auror's name, but realized with some trepidation that others in the room were reporters for various Wizarding Publications; no doubt also wanting to interview Jenny about her encounter with the Home Office. Ren hoped that they could be persuaded to not identify her by name in their articles.

Finally, there was one older wizard who stood out from the other visitors. Ren recognized him almost immediately. Though he had never met the world-famous wizard personally, he had seen his picture every so often in _The Towne Scryer_. The man, a bespectacled, bearded wizard in traditional robes, was speaking with the Lovegoods and Agents Quest-Singh and the Addams Siblings. Picking up his pace, Ren moved closer to the small group.

". . . alas," said the wizard with a wry smile. "Though I do confess to preferring the company of gentlemen; I learned almost too late, you see, that Gellert was, in fact, no gentleman . . . ."

"Excuse me," said Ren. "You are P-Professor Albus Dumbledore . . . ?"

"So I am," said Dumbledore nodding. "Though I am afraid that you do have me at somewhat of a disadvantage, sir. And you are . . . ?"

"Ah, I'm Ren – _Lawrence_, that is; Lawrence Jordan. I sent you a letter a few weeks ago . . . ."

Dumbledore offered his hand, which Ren promptly took in a friendly shake. Dumbledore said, "Well met, Mr. Lawrence Jordan. So now, finally I can put a face to a name.

"I have received the letter that you and your wife addressed to my attention regarding your request for your daughter to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this coming year."

"A-and, have you decided anything, yet . . . ?" said Ren.

Dumbledore nodded. "Well, Mr. Jordan, it might interest you to know that ever since the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms appeared in Maine, the Hogwarts Board of Governors has received many, many requests from families in the States and Canada asking for an opening for their children to obtain their magical education in far off Scotland.

"It would seem that suddenly, every-other wizard and witch with children in the Salem Witches Institute, Ilvermorny and Randolph Carter has forgotten that to truly powerful mages, _physical distance_ means nothing. And if we know nothing else of the inhabitants of this so-called "Storybrooke, Maine," and the town's mayor, Regina Mills, it would seem that they have access to very powerful magic, indeed.

"That said, your request was duly considered. Hogwarts does reserve a few spaces for foreign students, though most of those spaces are usually taken by students from the Republic of Ireland. However, due mainly to your family's Peverell ancestry, your daughter's admission and financial assistance has been approved. A letter has been sent to you by Owl Post, and should be waiting for you at your home in University City, Missouri, USA.

"However, due to recent events, a member of the Board of Governors, a certain Abraxas Malfoy, has raised _new _objections to Jennifer's admission."

Ren took Aggie's hand, and said, "What kind of objections, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"Unfortunately, Mr. and Mrs. Jordan," continued Professor Dumbledore, "Abraxas Malfoy has threatened to bring up your daughter's recent exposure to squid-ink if you try to enroll her in Hogwarts next year, and said that he will oppose her admission most vociferously on the grounds of "student safety."

"Now, while I am certain that I will be able to convince the Board of Governors that what happened to Jennifer poses no lasting threat to her, much less to the Hogwarts Student Body, and allow her to attend, I am also afraid that I will be unable to ensure that all of her classmates will welcome her with open arms; a difficult task that will be made even more difficult if Jennifer's classmate's parents' attitudes are influenced by Malfoy and his ilk."

Jennifer turned to Headmaster Dumbledore, and said, "E-excuse me, sir . . . ?" Dori whispered to Jennifer to address Albus Dumbledore as "Headmaster." Jennifer amended, "Excuse me, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Jennifer?" said Dumbledore with a friendly smile accompanied by a twinkle in his eye.

"I have heard a lot of good things about Hogwarts, but I really don't want to go all the way to Scotland for my magical education." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, and Jennifer continued. "I want to go to Randolph Carter in the Miskatonic Valley here in America. That's where a lot of my friends from Collinsport will be going. The only reason mom and dad want me to go to Hogwarts is that it is half a world away from the Incursion in Maine. They think that I will be "safer" at Hogwarts. But after what I have heard and seen in a pensieve, I don't think that _anyplace_ is safe from Regina's curse if she decides to use it again.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I want to go to magical school in America, and be with my family and my friends and with Corey – he's my boyfriend." Corey smiled broadly. Jennifer continued, "I'm scared. But I am tired of running away."

Professor Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, turned to Jenny's parents, and said, "Well, Mr. and Mrs. Jordan, I believe that you have your answer.

"Now, naturally, as Jennifer's parents, the final decision _is_ yours to make. I promise you that should Jennifer enroll at Hogwarts and has any problems with her fellow students, that I will address them with all due seriousness. I will call a school assembly, and inform the student body that exposure to squid-ink causes _temporary _loss of magical powers, but that it wears-off, and cannot reoccur, nor is it a communicable condition.

"I will inform all of our professors that nobody is in any danger from Jennifer being at Hogwarts, and that any harassment of her or anyone else will not be tolerated. I believe that Jennifer would make many friends; especially in whatever house she is sorted into.

"Indeed, Jennifer, even if sanity is restored and the other American parents withdraw their requests; you will not be the _only_ American student currently attending Hogwarts. A young, muggle born witch named Janelle Facillier from New Orleans is in her second year. She is quite popular and has many friends, and she could no doubt help you to acclimate.

"But there will always be those who will choose not to listen. Sadly, those who have the power to make up their minds without the facts are unlikely to change their minds when the facts are presented to them; all the more so if they or their parents have an . . . an underlying agenda.

"But, Jennifer, before you give your _final_ answer, you need to ask yourself this: If you chose to attend Randolph Carter over Hogwarts; is it because you have found something that you are _more_ afraid of than the Incursion from the Enchanted Realms to run away from . . . ?"

Jennifer chewed on her lip as she contemplated her answer. Headmaster Dumbledore made a very good point. Even before her exposure to squid-ink at the hands of those Home Office thugs, Jennifer did not want to go to another country to learn magic just because it was far away from the Incursion.

Jennifer knew that Hogwarts was an excellent school, and that many of the professors and instructors at Randolph Carter were Hogwarts Alumni. And there was no guarantee that she would not face ostracism at RC if she went there due to her squid-ink exposure, were it ever made public. Still . . . .

"Headmaster Dumbledore," said Jennifer. "The only way that I would be running away from being afraid of going to Hogwarts instead of Randolph Carter is that here in America, my exposure to squid-ink will still be kept a secret.

"But if everyone, everywhere, knew about it –"

"Jenny!" said Ren, who got down on his knee in front of his daughter, taking her by her small shoulders. Ren and Jenny both were only vaguely aware of the camera flashbulbs going off around them. "Do you have any idea what could happen if something like _that_ were ever made public? It could make your time at Randolph Carter a living hell!"

Aggie got down beside her husband and daughter, and added, "Jenny, it's not fair, but kids can be cruel. Those that are cruel don't need an excuse, but if you hand them a ready-made one . . . ." Abruptly, Aggie turned around and said, "And will you people kindly stop with the picture taking, already?"

"But if everyone knew what happened to me," insisted Jenny. "Then they can't say that we tried to hide _anything_ from them. Sure, there are kids who won't want to get near me if they found out. But I wouldn't want anybody like that to be my friends, anyway.

"My real friends will stand by me. And in any case, the Malfoys then won't be able to use it against us, if we let everyone know, first. And I really want to stick it to the stuck-up Malfoys, big time!"

After a long silence, Headmaster Dumbledore chuckled, and said, "I think that it had better be Randolph Carter for you after all, then, Jennifer. If for no other reason, it will save our Sorting Hat the headache of trying to figure out exactly where to put you.

"Based on what I have seen so far, you have the courage of a Gryffindor, the wisdom of a Ravenclaw, the ability to make friends of a Hufflepuff, and even the cunning, almost Machiavellian ability to strategize of a Slytherin. That's quite the combination . . . ."

Jennifer turned to her parents, and said, "Mom? Dad? May I please go to Randolph Carter next year? And can we ask the reporters at _The Towne Scryer_ and the other papers to use my name?" Jenny then turned to the Lovegoods, and added, "And will you please interview me for _The Quibbler_, too? The Malfoys can only use it against me if they have it to use, you know. And I can't wait to see their faces when they realize that we beat them to it!"

Xeno turned to Ren and Aggie, and said, "She does have a point. And if nothing else, it does restore my faith in the idea that a properly informed public is the best defense against panic."

"Or being led around by those who would use the ignorance of others to further their own agenda," added Dori solemnly.

"Randolph Carter is an excellent school," admitted Albus Dumbledore. "I am given to understand that the curriculum emphasizes magic, but also teaches what muggles call the "Core Curriculum," of math, science, literature, and other subjects that most muggle secondary schools teach; a philosophy similar to what muggles call a "High School of the Performing Arts."

"More to the point, your Randolph Carter school does seem to better prepare young wizards and witches to interact with the muggle majority better than Hogwarts, or even Ilvermorny or the Salem Witches Institute. There is something to be said for that.

"You know, last year, we hosted the Randolph Carter Quidditch Team in an exhibition game, with Hogwarts being represented by a team drawn from all four Houses. Though Hogwarts won, it was quite the close game.

"The team from Randolph Carter played well, but most of the Hogwarts student body ended up talking about the _others_ that came over with the Randolph Carter team.

"What was that they called that group of young, acrobatic witches? Cheerleaders . . . ?"

After a few more preliminaries, the meeting got started, and Jenny was interviewed by the FBS Aurors as the visitors from the UK and various Wizarding Publications looked on. The interview of her encounter with the Home Office was brief, and included a memory extraction of the incident to be viewed later in Bureau pensieves. When Jenny's statement and memories had been taken, Professor Dumbledore gave a comprehensive talk about the history and effects of squid-ink on people who have magical abilities.

"So, you see, it really wasn't necessary to use so much water and scrubbing, much less needing to shear poor Agent Addams to be sure that she and young Jennifer were free of the squid-ink," said Dumbledore. "And even though Agent Addams' and Jennifer Jordan's clothes were undoubtedly ruined by the stain of the squid-ink, it was hardly necessary to treat the rags like muggle plutonium.

"Anyone with a simple knowledge of Alchemy could have told you that the effect of squid-ink wears off fairly quickly, and cannot be spread from person-to-person in the manner of the common cold. You know, it just might behoove us to include a review of the effects of squid-ink in our Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, this year . . . .

"Sadly, I truly fear that your "Bureau Protocols" are only going to add to any potential fears that the Wizarding Public may have when this incident becomes common knowledge."

When the meeting was finally over, Albus Dumbledore promised to send some copies of books and scrolls from the Hogwarts library that described the effects of squid-ink on magic users in detail. Agent Quest-Singh said that the FBS would make it a priority to revise Bureau Protocols with regard to squid-ink exposure. But he also added somewhat ominously that with the Home Office working to synthesize an _artificial squid-ink_ that had a more permanent effect on wizards and witches that the revision of Bureau Protocols might not be so simple a task.

Before Professor Dumbledore left, he and Agent Quest-Singh exchanged a few more pleasantries. Not only had Hadji not seen his old Headmaster for several years now, it was due to the intervention by Professor Dumbledore back when he was only ten that Hadji was able to remain with his family instead of being sent to live with the Malfoys. Then, after wishing Jenny the best, Professor Dumbledore and the reporters and representatives from the UK all left for the Floo Hearth.

All except one, that is; the English Auror with the enchanted, prosthetic eye (that Ren noticed actually seemed to bulge out cartoon-style whenever he looked in the direction of Aggie's chest,) remained in the room. But before Ren could comment, Agent Quest-Singh and the Addams Siblings came over to him and Aggie, and introduced the English Auror to them as THE Alastor Moody.

Ren had read about Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody in _The Towne Scryer_. During the recent Wizarding War in the UK, this man was practically the Audie Murphy of English Aurors. Ren cautiously took the man's hand and shook it, trying his best to avoid looking into that enchanted, prosthetic eye.

Agent Quest-Singh said, "Mr. and Mrs. Jordan, there are a few things that my colleagues and I need to discuss with you.

"First, Auror Alastor Moody is here to escort the "Faux-Malfoys" back to the UK, where they have many outstanding warrants for crimes committed there."

"Spare you and your family the trauma of a trial here in the States, Mr. Jordan," grunted Moody. "And I can assure you that they will suffer just as much at Azkaban as they would have at your Miskatonic Penitentiary. They may even get the Dementor's Kiss for what they have done during the War."

"So then they _were_ using layered Polyjuice Potion," said Xeno Lovegood. "Then, who exactly were they?"

Moody rounded to Xeno, and said, "Does the name "Carrow" ring any bells . . . ?" Ren and Aggie shrugged, but Xeno and Dori turned as white as ghosts.

"Who's he talking about, Xeno?" said Ren. "What's a "Carrow," anyway?"

But before Xeno could reply, Moody said, "Let's just say, Mr. Jordan, that your family, the Lovegoods and the Martindale boy are quite lucky to be alive!"

"And what about the _real_ Malfoys?" said Aggie. "They had to be involved, someway."

"Yes, Mrs. Jordan," said Moody. "Undoubtedly, they are involved. But with their influence in the UK, we have as yet been unable to obtain a Warrant for them to be questioned by a legilimens, much less for a Soulgaze."

"Don't worry, Ren," said Xeno. "_The Quibbler_ will be all over this!" Dori nodded. But Moody shook his head, as much in disgust as in acceptance of a thing that he could not change.

"Possibly not, Xeno," said Moody. "There is talk in the Ministry that your publication is to be presented with an injunction for "security reasons."

"Well," said Dori dryly. "I suppose that we will need to purchase _two _frames, now."

"I'm afraid that it may be worse than that, Mr. and Mrs. Lovegood," said Moody. "After taking the Carrows to the Wizengamot, I am to escort the two of you to meet with Minister Cornelius Fudge.

"I – I am afraid that he will probably insist that you both make the Unbreakable Vow with regards to speaking or writing publically about this matter."

Ren's eyes went wide. Never in his life had he heard the words "The Unbreakable Vow" spoken out loud in conversation by _anyone_. It was a spell whose very name was said, if it had to be said at all, in the same hushed tones that muggles used when speaking of cancer.

Xeno's and Dori's eyes also went wide. But theirs was a look of outrage as opposed to unease.

"They can't do this!" hissed Xeno. "Not to us and certainly not to our readers!"

"We'll just refuse, then!" said Dori. "_The Quibbler_ will not be silenced!"

"Please believe me when I say that I am on your side," said Moody gruffly. "But the Ministry can make life very difficult for you if you chose to defy them." Moody glanced over at baby Luna in her mother's arms as Luna returned the glance with nonchalance. "If the Ministry decides to send you to Azkaban on fake charges, part of that will undoubtedly be to have the two of you declared to be unfit parents . . . ."

"Can they really do that?" said Ren incredulously. He then turned to the Lovegoods and said, "Maybe you should consider applying for asylum, here?"

"You can stay with us," said Aggie nodding in affirmation.

"Out of the question, Ren," said Xeno softly. "Our home is in the UK, in Ottery St. Catchpole."

"And if we did move to the States," added Dori. "It would hurt our credibility with our readers if we had to write in exile."

"No, Ren," said Xeno. "We need to go back home, and work within the system."

Moody nodded, and said, "Then you had better work quickly before there is no "system" left to work within."

Ren nodded, but added, "If you ever change your mind . . . ."

"Thank you," said Xeno nodding.

Pugsley Addams handed his card to Xeno Lovegood, and said, "Please stay in touch in case things start to 'go south.' The FBS will do everything within its power to expedite your request for asylum, should it be necessary."

"And stay in touch with us," said Ren as he gave Xeno's hand a final shake, And Dr. Martindale did likewise.

Rachel, Aggie and Jenny gave Dori a hug goodbye, and Jenny kissed Luna gently on her forehead.

Corey attempted one final staring contest with Luna, and naturally lost.

When the Lovegoods left with Alastor Moody, Ren said to Agent Quest-Singh, "You said there is something else that you want to discuss with us? I assume it is about meeting with Bureau Obliviators?"

Hadji sighed. "Not exactly. Because of your run-in with the Carrows and the Home Office, it has been decided that your family is to keep your memories intact, to help you keep your eye out for any potential danger resulting from these incidents."

"So we have to remember everything?" said Ren.

"That's alright, dad," said Jenny. "I want to remember what we did to Owen; about how we had a part in making him join the Home Office. And about how we all failed him big time when he needed us most. Being obliviated would be taking the easy way out."

Ren nodded at his daughter's comment, and said, "Then when do we get to go back home to Col – to U City, Missouri?" The words still sounded strange to Ren coming out of his mouth.

Hadji sighed, and said, "I'm afraid that you _won't_ be going back to Missouri, Mr. Jordan." Hadji then handed Ren an official looking parchment. Ren opened it up and perused it, shaking his head with disbelief. "I'm . . . I'm getting _drafted_ . . . ?"

The room erupted as Aggie and the Martindales crowded around Ren to look at the parchment. To Aggie and Ken, it looked like an advertisement for a new music group. But to Rachel, it was an official FBS document that began, "To Lawrence Jordan from the President of the Magical Congress of the United States of America. Greetings . . . ."

"What the hell does this mean?" said Ren, addressing Hadji directly. "I'm not a combat trained Warlock! That Regina Mills would rip my heart out before I can point my wand at her and say "stupify." I've got no formal magical training! Hell, the FBS turned down my application to work in their Broom and Carpet Pool maintaining their brooms because of that."

"Because of the Incursion, the MACUSA has declared an emergency," Hadji said. "Having you work for the FBS' Broom and Carpet Pool will free up a wizard or witch who has formal training."

Wednesday Addams added, "We have been critically short staffed ever since the Incursion hit. Because of this, a general draft has been authorized."

Pugsley said, "You and your family will need to be relocated to Salem by the middle of the week."

"Naturally, without a formal wizarding education," said Hadji. "You will not be paid as much as someone who is a full Auror. The job will pay twenty thousand dollars and five thousand galleons. Your family will need to live in an apartment on the Bureau Campus. There is a school for Jenny and a daycare for Ricky. For that matter, Aggie might be able to do some work at the grade school, since several of the teachers there who are wizards and witches are being reassigned."

It did not take Ren Jordan long to do the math. He hated being "forced" into any situation. But this job would pay half-again what he was currently earning; even more since living accommodations were one of the perks of the job. And even better still, he would not have to keep any secretes from his neighbors. His family would have more freedom to be themselves in Salem than they would even have had back home in Collinsport.

Jenny said, "Agent Quest-Singh? Will the other kids in school be wizards and witches, too?"

"Yes they will, for the most part," said Hadji. "As for your _muggle_ classmates, I think that you may already know one of them . . . ."

Corey smiled. "Mom and dad are being reassigned to Salem. Since Fifth and Sixth grade classes are combined, we'll actually have the same room, together!"

"At least if you manage to keep your grades up, young man," said Rachel to her son. This brought a laugh of relief to everyone in the room.

As the Jordans accompanied the Addams siblings to the Floo Hearth for the trip back to Salem, Ren said, "I take it that I am not the only wizard to get a draft notice."

"Not at all," said Wednesday. "And just so you know, not all of those called up are those without any formal magical education. It just depends on what it is thought that they can do to help out."

"Well, between the two of us," said Ren. "This is a big help for me, too."

"I understand," said Wednesday. "But most people would see it as an imposition."

"Which reminds me, Sis," added Pugsley. "Are we all still planning to draw lots back in Salem to see who gets to serve Endora . . . ?"


	25. The Dust Begins to Settle

**Chapter 25: The Dust Begins to Settle**

In her palace in Wonderland, the Queen of Hearts was about to address a group of supplicants when she suddenly realized that nobody in her throne room was moving. Wearing the Masks of Strangers, the gathered throng stood as still as statues. Setting her own mask down, Queen Cora rose from her throne, stepped down the dais, and looked around.

"What is the meaning of this?" she said aloud. "Jafar? Is this your doing? This isn't funny . . . ."

"No," said an annoyed female voice that seemed to come from everywhere. "It is not Jafar's doing. And I can assure you that it is most certainly not meant to be funny." From behind Cora, came the chime of a bell, and she rounded to the sound to find herself face-to-face with a stern looking, redheaded witch dressed in a flamboyant green and purple outfit.

Cora swallowed hard. "E-Endora . . . ."

"Oh, you remember me. Good."

"Of course I remember you, Endora. S-so tell me, how are you? And how is, ah, what is your daughter's name again, it has been quite a while . . . oh, yes, _Samantha_?"

"Samantha is fine, Copycat, dear." Endora rolled her eyes. "Although for better or for worse, she is still married to Derwood.

"And what of your own daughter Regina . . . ?"

"Oh, as temperamental as ever," said Cora, managing a nervous smile. "But she is still _not_ married to Daniel."

"Of course not," said Endora dryly. "Although I cannot say that I approve of my daughter's taste in men, I will say that the two of them _did_ manage to give me two, very wonderful, beautiful grandchildren.

"And tell me, has Regina given _you_ any grandchildren, yet . . . ?

"Oh, THAT"S right; she _can't_, unless she decides to _adopt_, that is! You actually drove her to _drink_, didn't you, Cosplay . . . ?"

Cora felt herself break into a sweat. "E-Endora, surely you did not come all the way to Wonderland to discuss how our respective daughters disappointed us . . . ?"

"You are right, I did not! Nor did I say that Samantha has ever disappointed me in _any_ way!" Endora took another step closer to Cora as the Queen of Hearts took a step back. To Endora's amusement, she was actually "dancing" with Cora; making the Queen of Hearts back away with every small step she took as she spoke to her. "I just came to ask you a few questions, and then to give you some friendly advice . . . ."

Cora's glower was barely noticeable, but it was there, just the same. _Go ahead_, thought Endora. _Just you _try_ to make a grab for my _heart,_ you second-rate sorceress. I triple-headed- dog-dare-you to give me a reason . . . ._

But Cora made no aggressive moves. Slightly disappointed, Endora then conjured a globe of the Earth, pointing to the coast of Maine where a red dot was glowing. "First, Conehead, what do you know about THIS?"

"I, uh, what is it, Endora? I don't recognize this world."

"Good. It is _my_ world, and you would do well to stay _out_ of it, if you know what is good for you! But I am not talking about the world as much as what has just _arrived _in it a month or so ago; a large, physical incursion from _these_ realms. Now, I'll ask again, what, if anything, do you know about it?"

"Endora, I . . . I'm not _responsible_ for that! That would take something along the lines of The Dark Curse to accomplish, and . . . ."

"Ah, of course it would," said Endora. "And to cast The Dark Curse, you would need to use the heart of the one you loved the most. And as the one you love the most is _yourself_, there is no way that you can cast the curse and still be _here_. Yes, I'll accept that explanation, Cola. For now . . . .

"So onto the _friendly advice_, then," said Endora. "For some unfathomable reason, my granddaughter Tabitha has decided on a career in magical law enforcement. I also have a thirteen year old grandson, Adam, who is very worried about the recent events caused by this Incursion from these lands into our own.

"If this _is_ a hostile invasion, my dear, sweet Tabitha will be on the front lines. And if _anything_ happens to her, then I shall be very, _very irritated_. Do you take my meaning, Cornpone . . . ?"

"But, Endora," said Cora. "I have _nothing_ to do with this incursion from our world into your own world. You, yourself, said as much. How, then, can you hold me responsible for –"

"I can do what I please," said Endora pleasantly. "And if Tabitha, Adam, Samantha, or even Dumdum are harmed in any way by this incursion, than I shall blame you!"

"Endora, I –"

"If they are harmed, I shall blame you! If you know anything about the incursion, anything at all that you are not telling me, _now_ would be the time to do _whatever_ is necessary to see to it that those involved are told to _withdraw_ from my world _posthaste_ before anyone else is hurt."

"E-excuse me, Endora," said Cora, who now realized that Endora had backed her into her throne, and she had nowhere else to back up to. "But, with all due respect, why not simply go into this "incursion" and confront those who are _actually_ responsible . . . ?"

"Oh, believe me, Cordwood, I would love to do that, if I were actually _permitted_ to do so . . . .

"The White Council - the so-called magical "authorities" of my world - has invoked a little used law that requires all wizards and witches to do their part to respond to the threat of the Incursion. Long story short, I got "drafted." And I don't like it.

"It would seem, you see, that the authorities are convinced that whoever is responsible for the Incursion are unaware that they have come to a land _with_ magic of its own, and they want to keep it that way. So I was given strict orders to not enter the Incursion under any circumstances."

"So, then, you were sent here on behalf of your world's Magical Authorities to tell me . . . ?"

"Oh, _please_!" snapped Endora as she looked daggers at Cora. "Not only do you offend me by taking me for a mere messenger from my world's White Council, but you flatter yourself if you think that they would deign to send _any_ official message to the likes of you!

"No, Contrail, I am here on my own. They may have requested that I stay out of the _Incursion_ from the Enchanted Realms. But they said nothing to me about not making a little trip to the Enchanted Realms itself on a little fact-finding visit. So here I am.

"As to why I started my trip in Wonderland, there is a saying in my world that fits this situation quite nicely; "Round up the Usual Suspects." And your name is always at the top of _my_ list."

"W-what would you have me do, Endora?"

"Keep your nose clean and stay out of my way, for starters, Codfish," replied Endora. "I am in a bad enough mood, now, as it is.

"Just remember what I said about my family. And know that if any harm comes to them, especially to my grandchildren, then I will see to it that you will _never_ die, if you take my meaning . . . ."

"I-I _do_, Endora," said Cora nodding earnestly.

"Good!" And with a flourish of her arms and the pinging of a chime, Endora was gone.

Cora then realized that everyone in her court was moving again. With as much dignity as she could muster, the Queen of Hearts returned to her throne, and once more held her Mask of the Stranger in front of her face. "Showoff," Cora muttered to herself in barely louder than a whisper.

Endora's booming voice came from all around, making everyone present jump: "I heard that, Condo! Just remember what I said, and do _NOT_ try me . . . _EVER_!"

FBS Director Vincent DeMarigny waited until Agent Quest-Singh had emerged from the pensieve, and then took his place at the conference room table, before saying, "Alright, now that everyone has seen Endora's report from her recent trip to Wonderland, I am opening the floor for comments."

Director DeMarigny silently canvassed each person in the room. Agent Quest-Singh was joined by his brother, Dr. Johnathan Quest; the only muggle in attendance. Also present were the Addams Siblings, as well as Agents Garwin, Halliwell, and even Agent Susan Spellman, who had just come back on duty after her ordeal at the hands of the Carrows. "Anyone . . . ?"

"Well," began Agent Halliwell, "aside from being glad that I was not the one that Endora was angry with, at least we know that whoever this Regina Mills is, she most likely does not have the ability to cast this Dark Curse again, much less that she has anyone working for her back in the Enchanted Realms capable of doing it for her.

"Imagine having to kill the person you love the most to initiate such a curse. And I thought that making a horcrux was as bad as bad could get."

"I agree," said Hadji. "It is very unlikely that we have to worry about any Warlord Mage from the Enchanted Realms blowing huge chunks off of our world and replacing them with whatever they want; either on Regina's behalf, or for their own agenda."

"So, what now?" said Agent Wednesday Addams. "Do we attempt to enter Storybrooke? Try to contact this Regina Mills, find out what she wants, why she's here?"

"And while we are at it," added her brother Pugsley, "find out what happened to Kurt Flynn?"

"For now," said Director DeMarigny, "the White Council still wants us to keep Storybrooke under observation, and keep any of Our Kind at least three hundred miles away to lessen the chance that they can detect our presence."

"You know," said Agent Spellman. "Just a thought. Do you think we should ask _Endora_ if she might know who Regina Mills could be? She has been to the Enchanted Realms more than anyone else I know of, including Stephen Strange. Maybe this Cora, Queen of Hearts might know something. Endora mentioned that she has a daughter named Regina. I wonder if Cora's daughter Regina and Regina Mills are one in the same?"

Director DeMarigny shook his head. "For now I think that we should play as much as we can close to the vest. Endora might be able to shed more light on Storybrooke if we bring her fully into the loop. But on the other hand, Regina is a fairly common name in the Enchanted Realms. If we bring this up with Endora, we could be giving away too much information that could lead to a panic, or worse, the exposure of our world.

"So, now the big problem is: what do we say for today's press release? Anyone?"

Hadji's brother Johnathan said, "I think that we can safely announce that what came through from the Enchanted Realms has been _transfigured_ – that is the correct term, I hope - to take the form of a typical, Eastern Seaboard town called "Storybrooke." And that there are no signs of any overt, immediate magical threats to this world's wizards and witches in general and the American and Canadian wizarding community in particular."

Hadji added, "But there is still much that we _don't_ know. Why they are here, for starters. Why there is a time-loop spell in effect, among other things. And because of this, we still need to proceed with caution. No matter how careful we are, the moment that we so much as attempt to _actively_ probe the spells surrounding Storybrooke, we run the risk of letting them know that We are here, too.

"Maybe this is the beachhead of a hostile invasion, in which case, the rest of the world will need to know – not just mutants and meta-humans – but all muggles. Or, for all we know, they could be exiles or refugees, though the time-loop part of the curse probably argues against that.

"But regardless, _whoever_ they are, once they know that we are on to them, that revelation can _never_ be "taken back," as it were. If nothing else, they may be able to blackmail us by threatening to expose the existence of Our World to this world's muggles. And I think that we can all agree that that must not happen." Hadji glanced over to Johnathan, and said, "No offense meant, Bro."

"None taken," replied Johnathan. "Given all the anti-witch hysteria in our world's history, I would not want to see my brother in any jeopardy, if it can be avoided." The Quest siblings smiled and fist-bumped each other.

Director DeMarigny nodded. "We will still need to keep Wizards and Witches out of Maine until we know more. This means that, until further notice, Maine - and even some parts of New Hampshire and Vermont - will be effectively a Land Without Magic for the foreseeable future.

"My counterpart in the Canadian Ministry of Magic has told me that Canadian magic users who had to be evacuated on the evening of October 22nd from the boarder with Maine will not be moving back anytime soon, either. Fortunately for them, only about a dozen families total in Quebec, New Brunswick and Nova Scotia were affected.

"In addition, we should advise all magic users should avoid traveling over the Incursion area in aircraft, or near it on ships in the Gulf of Maine and the Bay of Fundy."

Hadji sighed. "Forced off and out of our own land." The Techno-mage shook his head. The FBS had to relocate over three hundred people from Collinsport alone.

"Yes," said Director DeMarigny. "Unfortunately, mainly due to Collinsport, we were _not_ so lucky. What's the latest report on how the evacuees are coping?"

"Well," said Wednesday Addams, "no physical casualties were reported. There were a few arrests when some Wizards and Witches tried to cross the No Magic Line. But these were not Death Eaters looking to make contact with "The Arrival," or even an _ad hoc_ wizarding militia trying to "fight back." They were mainly people without immediate muggle family trying to recover what possessions that they could."

Everyone at the conference table nodded sympathetically. The American Wizengamot would have to punish these few dozen individuals, but had promised to take "everything" into account when administering justice.

Pugsley Addams added, "Our family is setting up a group of muggle movers to clean out the houses of wizards and witches who had to evacuate, at no expense to the evacuees. These are muggles who are not necessarily movers by profession, but muggles who already know about our world, and can be trusted to be . . . discrete and careful.

"But it is taking time. We have to train them to be aware of handling objects that might be enchanted, or possibly even cursed. These items could not only be dangerous to those trying to retrieve them, but if the magic is discharged, could also let this Regina Mills know that there is magic here.

"As an example, the Jordan family's father had his potions and broom making lab in a workshop in his basement. His muggle wife was able to bring back a lot of their things when she was in Collinsport recently, but the potions and broom making shop had to be left behind because she had no way to safely transport them."

"Speaking of the Jordans," added Wednesday in a slightly lighter tone, "I am happy to report that they seem to be settling into their new home in the apartment complex on the other side of the Bureau's campus. I have been keeping in touch with young Jennifer, and she says that she and her family are starting to adjust to their "new normal" life.

"Jennifer has reconnected with many of her old friends from Collinsport, and has made lots of new friends, here. Her little brother is doing well at the Bureau's on-site daycare where their mom is working now. And her father is adjusting well to his new task in the Bureau's Broom and Carpet Pool.

"However, Jennifer still feels bad about what happened to Owen Flynn. We offered her a selected memory modification, but she and her family decided against this. They want to remember their part in how we lost Owen."

Hadji nodded. "It can be too easy for us – wizards and witches – sometimes; a magical cure for anything that ails us, physically or emotionally.

"But as the old saying goes, "All magic comes with a price." And Jennifer evidently thinks that the price of not remembering would be higher than the price of dealing with her feelings directly."

Wednesday said, "Jennifer told me that she hopes to meet Owen again one day so both may have closure; something that would not be possible if Jennifer were magically induced to forget."

"Will that even be possible?" said Agent Garwin, speaking for the first time. "If Owen has joined the Home Office, he's as likely to try and kill Jennifer instead of talking with her if they ever meet again. In the past few days that he has been with them, Owen probably hates everything to do with magic, by now."

"Maybe we should have told Owen that we are not able to rescue his father, now," said Agent Spellman. "That it is just too dangerous for everyone involved."

"That would have been too risky," said Director DeMarigny. "If Owen decided to refuse to help us unless we promised to rescue his father immediately, we would have been back to Square One. And more to the point, it was our intention to rescue Owen's dad all along."

"But that," pointed out Agent Wednesday Addams, "is exactly what the Home Office people promised to Owen. And in the end, he accepted their help, instead of ours."

"As we said before," said Hadji. "We really need to review our protocols; especially now that our lives have just gotten a lot more complicated."

The room was silent for several minutes before Director DeMarigny said, "So, if nobody has anything more to add, I guess I had better go face the music in the pressroom . . . ."

In Ottery St. Catchpole, Xenophilius and Pandora Lovegood put their little daughter, Luna, down for bedtime. Xeno still looked bitter over the events of the past few days, wishing that there was some magical way to wipe the smarmy look that Lucius Malfoy had on his face as he watched Xeno and Dori make the Unbreakable Vow to keep the involvement of the Malfoys and the Carrows out of the Wizarding Press.

But as bitter as Xeno looked, Dori looked . . . thoughtful. This Unbreakable Vow was forced on us. That isn't right. We were silenced against our will and our conscience.

But what was the Unbreakable Vow but a _legal contract_; albeit a magically-binding one? And all legal contracts have gaps and loopholes that may be potentially exploited. Dori smiled as she watched little Luna sleeping soundly. It would take a lot of time to figure out; a lot of research and some _experimenting_. But Dori was confident that she could eventually find a way . . . .

In her bedroom at the Mayor's Mansion at 108 Mifflin Street, The Evil Queen of the Enchanted Forest, now known as Mayor Regina Mills of Storybrooke, Maine woke up the same way that she had for the past four weeks, in a room that was her own, and yet, was not.

Thanks to the knowledge implanted by The Dark Curse, Regina knew to touch the small switch on the wall to make the lights come on (no different that waving her hand and making the torches light, really.) She went over to the garderobe – _no, the bathroom_ – and turned on the faucet for a mixture of hot and cold running water. Now, that still made her nod slightly in wonder, as did the sudden rush of warm air from the grate at the base of the wall.

She then treated herself to a shower, absentmindedly singing "_Shadows of the Night_" by a native singer named Pat Benatar as she showered; a song and a singer that she knew about also thanks to The Dark Curse. Though Pat Benatar was not exactly a minstrel singing to the accompaniment of a lute, Regina found the native singer's music to be as invigorating as the shower.

She then dressed, selecting a simple, gray business dress, from her closet. It was strange getting dressed by herself, without ladies-in-waiting to assist her. But this world's clothes were _foolsimple_ to put on.

Regina went downstairs to the kitchen. There was food in the pantry and the refrigerator, and thanks to The Dark Curse, she knew how to prepare it. She knew how to use the stove and the gas range and even the microwave oven. But, as often as not, she decided to go to the local inn called Granny's Diner for her favorite breakfast of apple pancakes and a hot cup of coffee (a drink that, after her second morning here in this world, she wondered what she had done without it.) And not just the coffee; the _water_ in this world could be drunk ice-cold safely without fear of dysentery. As a girl growing up, Regina had drunk light ale and wine to assuage her thirst.

Regina shook her head in wonder. _And I thought to send everyone someplace horrible . . . ._

It had been one thing if she had been the only one to enjoy the blessings of this world's, what was it called, "technology?" But here in this world, even the poorest peasant could enjoy these blessings! _Even that blasted Snow White lived in a place with central heating and running water! Something that even my Royal Palace lacked!_

Regina thought of using her carriage, which thanks to The Dark Curse, was now something called a Mercedes Benz 560SL. Also thanks to The Curse, she knew how to drive it. But instead, she decided to walk to Granny's Diner.

Regina checked the clock. She knew the drill. If she left now, she would be bid good morning by that blasted Cricket walking his mangy mutt. She would see that wolf-girl get told-off by her grandmother for her slatternly ways. But most of all, she could tell-off Snow White when they almost collide on the street. That last part, especially, never got old for Regina; to start her day with Snow White begging her for forgiveness.

And after doing those things, and more, Regina sat at HER stool at the diner, where the wolf-girl brought her coffee and the grandmother brought her apple pancakes.

But when it was time to leave, Regina reached into her purse to pay for the meal, and as she reached for her wallet, her fingers brushed the red and green keychain lanyard that the native boy had given to her on her first morning in this strange, New World.

And Regina, The Evil Queen who had put entire villages to sword and torch in her past life, who had ripped-out the hearts of hundreds, if not thousands, quickly left the diner for her office at the Town Hall.

And once safely inside, she closed her office doors and began to sob uncontrollably, wondering if she had achieved her vengeance, or if she had actually made a most terrible mistake . . . .

Almost fourteen years after she and her family had to abruptly leave their home in Collinsport, Maine, Jennifer Martindale decided to take a little side trip from the Shmoo Preserve in Creve Coeur, Missouri, before going to the home of the Stephens and the Cattermole families in rural Bonne Terre, to make her delivery.

Not that she had originally planned it that way. In truth, she had not thought of the old house that she and her family and the Lovegoods had lived in for less than a week in University City, Missouri, too much in all those years. But now that she actually found herself within driving distance . . . .

At first, Jenny tried to put the old Brownstone in U-City out of her mind as soon as she thought of it. But Jenny also knew that if she did not take a quick look while she was in town, that she would probably kick herself later for _not_ taking a drive through the neighborhood (though she did not think of it in terms of, "the old neighborhood,") when she had the chance. If nothing else, it was where she and Corey actually made their relationship "official" those many years ago, back when they had been kids.

Jenny took a quick glance to the coolers in the back seat of her 1953 Studebaker Starlight Coup that she and Corey got from her parents as a wedding present. The milk, eggs, and butter from the Shmoo Preserve was safe from spoiling in the coolers, which had been enchanted to keep their contents colder for longer than even muggle dry ice could do, and she was not expected at the Stephens / Cattermole home for several more hours.

Jenny decided to take a quick look at Stonewall Elementary School, first. She had only been there for a few days back in fifth grade, but as far as she could tell, for the most part, it looked the same as she remembered it. And Jenny had to admit that it wasn't all bad. She liked her teacher, Miss Sherman, and a girl in her class named Tonya. Of course, there were also the three Junior Divas and that bully Chris and his friends that drove her crazy. But, unlike them, she wondered how Tonya was doing, from time to time.

For a brief moment, Jenny considered going inside for a look around. If she could get a visitor's pass, it might be neat to see if Miss Sherman still taught Fifth Grade and if Mr. Burr was still the Principal. As Jenny started to look for a parking space, she felt a bit of a chill as she saw kids in the playground. But what really creeped her out was the sight of a group of kids – all carrying rolled-up towels - being led across the street to the high school for swimming lessons.

Jenny decided to go to the old house used by her family for less than a week after they had left the Displaced Wizards' Center. From the outside, it looked the way she remembered. But this time, she had absolutely no thoughts of getting out of the car, even to check out the back yard where she had gotten jinxed by Kale Sanderson. And if Harry Dresden had not come by when he had, the Sanderson boy would have surely broken Corey's arm.

Jenny smiled at the thought of Harry Dresden. She remembered reading something about him in _The Towne Scryer_ not long ago, and about how he was now taking on bigger and badder threats than the Sanderson punk (who probably was _still_ a punk, now that she thought about it.)

Jenny then drove down to the end of the block, to the group of stores where she and Owen were taken by those two faux-S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Only the Kosher Deli and Bakery and the Laundromat remained. The Hobby Shop was now a GameStop, and model planes, cars and tanks now gave way to gaming hardware and software. The other stores had been repurposed, too. The grocery store where she intended to call the FBS for help was now a specialty store, and the ice cream shop now sold frozen yogurt.

From there, it was on to Stacey Park, where Owen had gone with the Home Office and she and Agent Wednesday Addams had been blasted with squid-ink. That made Jenny smile again. She had been right. By talking frankly with the magical news media and answering all questions that her classmates at Randolph Carter had for her, she prevented the "bad guys" (especially those stuck-up Malfoys,) from using it against her. But her smile quickly dissolved into a neutral expression when she realized that her mom had also been right, and that it could have just as easily gone the other way. _But this time_, Jenny reminded herself, _the good guys won . . . ._

Her impromptu tour over, Jenny got onto Highway 270, and from there, to Highway 55 and straight towards Bonne Terre to make her delivery. (And in addition to the milk, eggs and butter in the coolers, there were several boxes of pasta, bread, rice and vegetables that had been donated by various wizarding organizations; most notably the one set up by the Addams Family.) Things were going from bad to worse for a lot of Wizarding families due to what many are now calling "The Second Wizarding War."

YKW was back, and the situation in the UK and Europe had deteriorated pretty quickly ever since the UK's Ministry of Magic fell, and Pius Thickness became Minister. But when MACUSA refused to recognize him as such, and continued to demand to speak with Kingsley Shacklebolt, the MoM then ordered that all American accounts at Gringotts be frozen in response.

And because Adam and Janelle Stephens' livelihood involved importing and exporting magical items from the UK, their business took a severe turn for the worst. Unfortunately for them, they had placed a large order in anticipation of trouble just before the Ministry fell, leaving them without their money or the consignment that they had bought and paid for.

As for the Cattermole family, they had been granted asylum in the US because Mary-Elizabeth, the wife of Reginald and the mother of Maisie, Ellie and Alfred, was muggle born. Even more bizarrely, Mrs. Cattermole was wanted on charges of "theft of magic," and even now some lady named Umbridge was demanding that they be extradited back to the UK.

But there was nothing that Jenny could do about that. For now, both families were hurting. And it was Jenny's job to help them as best as she could. But as Jenny turned from I-55 onto I-64, she reflected that the families needed more than food assistance. The Cattermoles had three children, aged 10 and younger. And while the younger two, (an eight year old girl and a six year old boy,) undoubtedly saw their American Adventure as something new, their ten year old, Maisie (the same name as Jenny's favorite aunt!) was not making the adjustment quite as well. She understood all too well why her family had to abruptly leave behind everything they knew and loved at a moment's notice with barely the clothes on their back.

According to Reginald and Mary Elizabeth Cattermole, Maisie had been sullen and distant ever since their arrival in the States. And despite the best efforts of the Stephens' ten year old son Matt to reach out to her, Maisie remained moody and aloof.

Jenny intended to have a girl-to-girl talk with Maisie Cattermole the moment she got there.

And for better or for worse, Jenny could understand the way that Maisie felt all too well . . . .

**The End**

**Author's Acknowledgements and Afterthoughts**

A little over a year and 115,000 + words later, this story is finally completed.

From the start, this story was something of an experiment for me. I started it with only a vague idea of how it would end, and posted it one or two chapters at a time. It was also my first attempt to create Original Characters. And while I am satisfied with the results overall, there are plenty of ideas that I wish I had included, some things that I wish that I had done differently, and plenty of inadvertent spelling errors that escaped both spellcheck and several read-overs.

During the time I was writing, I had to redo several chapters and scenes. But it was the announcement of the upcoming 2016 "Harry Potter" prequel movie, "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," that gave me the most concern.

Up until now, the idea of "America in the Potterverse" was somewhat open to speculation. I knew that I could not just make stuff up as I went along. But lacking information from J. K. Rowling's canon, I based a lot of my ideas of an American Wizarding Community from classic "supernatural" television shows like "The Munsters," "The Addams Family," "Bewitched," and the various iterations of "Sabrina the Teenage Witch."

From these shows, I basically inferred that American wizards and witches lived more openly among muggles to a greater degree than their UK and European counterparts. That they were more likely to marry muggles than wizards and witches elsewhere, and that they were more likely to use "wandless" magic. I also thought that Native American magic would have a special place of importance.

But other than the parts about "Native American" and "wandless magic," I couldn't have been more wrong. According to the recently published "History of Magic in North America" written by J.K.R. herself, the situation was actually pretty much _the reverse_ of what I had speculated, with American Magic Users being more _separate_ from their muggle (er, I mean, "no-maj,") counterparts due to "Rappaport's Laws" than Wizards and Witches elsewhere had been.

At the time I began writing ALWOM, I had been making _every effort_ to keep within the established canon of every fandom that I used. The only 'concession' that I made was to make all "interface points" between franchises "Harry Potter-based;" for example, having the magic users from "Bewitched" saying "muggle" instead of "mortal." But I never saw "no-maj" coming. Also, I had my American Wizards using Galleons instead of Dragots for money.

I'm also willing to bet that JKR's American Wizards and Witches are not "car-crazy," either.

Even though I was able to work-in references to the Magical Congress of the United States of America (MACUSA,) Ilvermorny School, and relegate my own idea of the United States Federal Bureau of Sorcery to a strictly Law Enforcement Agency (thanks to the help of Argonaut57 – more on that later,)

I have no choice now but to reluctantly declare this project (as well as other stories that I have written and stories still in the works,) to be "Alternate Universe Harry Potter Fanfictions."

From the moment that I first saw "Once Upon A Time," a crossover with "Harry Potter" seemed like a good match, and when I saw some fan art online depicting a witches' duel between Bellatrix Lestrange and Regina Mills in her Evil Queen persona, I knew that I had to write _something _that combined the two storyverses.

I did not want to go the Bellatrix vs. Regina route; that has already been done in fanfiction. (Just check out "The Queen at Hogwarts" by EmmaCD092900, on this site for one fun example.) But one idea intrigued me more than any other: Assuming that "Our World" was home to a large, secret community of magic users as shown in "Harry Potter;" exactly _how_ would they react to the sudden appearance of Storybrooke on the coast of Maine the evening of October 22, 1983?

I immediately imagined that there would be pandemonium, (if not outright panic,) at such a large magical invasion of "Our World." For the Wizarding World in general, and the American and Canadian Wizarding Communities in particular, I imagined that this could be their equivalent of Pearl Harbor, Hurricane Katrina or even 9/11. And I wondered about the effect of this incursion on average, wizarding families who were immediately affected.

Also, one of my favorite OUAT characters is that of Owen Flynn / Greg Mendell. I had read several sites where Greg Mendell and his "Home Office" partner, Tamara (who had not even been given a last name,) were depicted as villains. But I thought that this was a bit harsh, not to mention wrong. I saw them as basically good people, who were only trying to find out what happened to Greg's dad and were also trying to defend "Our World" from what may fairly be called an alien invasion. Indeed, the first character from "Classic TV" that came to mind to compare Greg and Tamara to was that of David Vincent from the Quinn Martin TV show, "The Invaders." David Vincent even gets a shout-out in passing during his "dumpster conversation" with Jenny. (As a sidebar, there actually is a connection between "The Invaders" and "Once Upon A Time." Just Google Barbara Hershey to find out what it is.)

To be honest, even when Greg and Tamara were torturing Regina to find out what happened to Greg's dad, Kurt Flynn, I found it hard to despise them (and just as hard to cheer for David, Mary-Margaret and Emma when they were trying to rescue Regina.)

For one thing, if anyone from "Our World" had used a Stargate or something to invade the Enchanted Forest, and had killed Regina's dad, Prince Henry, if he refused to cooperate and allow them to set up a strip-mining operation, then would not Regina have been out for vengeance? For that matter, would not the inhabitants of the Enchanted Forest do everything that they could to drive out the otherworldly invaders and their "advanced science?"

As Regina likes to point out, Evil isn't born; it's made.

I am actually hoping that Kitsis and Horowitz bring back Greg and Tamara and even Kurt Flynn in Season 5. I would like to see them have a conversation with Regina about what she did to them, and at least admit that she was in the wrong when she invaded our world and killed Kurt Flynn. Maybe the three of them could actually reach an understanding that would allow Greg, Tamara, and even Kurt Flynn to move on. That can only help Regina's own redemption. The only OUAT character that could possibly object would be Hades . . . .

Regarding my Original Characters, primarily the Jordan and Martindale families, my first concern was to avoid the dreaded "Mary Sue" trap. To do this, I decided early on to "detune" their magical abilities relative to the other magic users from the Potterverse that we all know. There is no way that Ren Jordan could take on Lucius Malfoy in a wand duel, even if Malfoy fought fair. Besides, he had no formal magical education. And while Rachel Martindale is a competent and talented healer, she would not last long in a wand duel against Narcissa Malfoy, much less against Bellatrix Lestrange.

But Ren's daughter Jenny will attend the Randolph Carter School for Witches and Wizards, and become quite an outstanding witch. His son Ricky, who will also be attending RC, will even be able to hold his own against Draco Malfoy when he is about 12 – 14 in a future story that I have planned. (One running gag that I have planned is to have Ricky Jordan not believe Draco Malfoy when he claims to actually "know Harry Potter." Ricky thinks Draco is just "name-dropping" to sound important.)

Finally, this story would not have been possible without the help and support of fellow Fanfiction Hobbyists, Argonaut57, the Marquis-Carabas, and newcomer to the hobby, horacethepig. Both Argonaut57 and horacethepig are from the UK and the Marquis-Carabas is from Scotland. I owe them a lot for helping me "Brit-pick" this and other stories of mine. But all mistakes (such as having Dumbledore saying "math" instead of "maths" in Chapter 24,) are my own.

Also, as previously mentioned, Argonaut57 was especially helpful by discussing ways that I could adapt my story to the new revelations from JKR about America in the Potterverse. Indeed, he even _rescued_ one of my projects (my "Once Upon A Time" / "Lost in Space" crossover, "When Henry Met Penny,") outright when I got "Jossed" Big-Time by revelations in the first half of OUAT Season 5. A BIG PART of WHMP Chapter 7 was his gift to me. Let's just say that it's a good thing for me that "The Doctor" makes house-calls . . . .

I want to thank all of them for taking so much time to help me with my projects. And I highly recommend their stories to all of my readers. To find them, just check out my "Favorites" on this site.

Well, that's pretty much it. I want to thank everyone for following along, and I hope that you liked reading this story as much as I liked writing it. If so (or even if you did not like it,) I would like to know why. Please take a moment, or two, to let me know what you thought about this story. Thank you in advance.


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